A   CHOSEN    FEW 


CAMEO  EDITION. 


REVERIES  OF  A  BACHELOR  ;  or,  a  Book  of  the  Heart.     By 
Donald  G.  Mitchell.    With  an  Etching  by  Percy  Moran 

DREAM  LIFE.    A  Fable  of  the  Seasons.     With  an  Etching 
by  Percy  Moran. 

OLD  CREOLE  DAYS.     By  George  W   Cable.     With  an  Etch 
ing  by  Percy  Moran. 

IN  OLE  VIRGINIA.    By  Thomas  Nelson  Page.    With  an  Etch 
ing  by  W.  L.  Sheppard. 

BITTER-SWEET.    A  Poem.    By  J.  G.  Holland.    With  an  Etch 
ing  by  Otto  Bacher. 

KATHRINA.    A  Poem.    By  J.  G.  Holland.     With  an  Etching 
by  Otto  Bacher. 

LETTERS  TO  DEAD  AUTHORS.      By  Andrew  Lang.     With 
an  Etched  Portrait  by  S.  J.  Ferris. 

"VIRGINIBUS  POERISQUE."    By  Robert  Louis  Stevenson 
With  an  Etched  Portrait  by  S.  J.  Ferris. 

A  CHOSEN  FEW.     Short  Stories.     By   Frank    R.  Stockton. 
With  an  Etched  Portrait  by  W.  H.  W.  Bicknell. 

A  LITTLE  BOOK  OF  PROFITABLE  TALES.   By  Eugene  Field. 
With  an  Etched  Portrait  by  W.  H.  W.  Bicknell. 

THE    REFLECTIONS    OF   A    MARRIED    MAN.      By   Robert 
Grant.    With  an  Etching  by  W.  H.  Hyde. 

THE   OPINIONS   OF   A   PHILOSOPHER.     By   Robert  Grant. 
With  an  Etching  by  W.  H.  Hyde. 


Each,  one  volume,  ISmo. 
Half  Calf,  g.t.,  $2.75;  half  levant,  |3.50  ;  cloth,  $1.25. 


A  CHOSEN  FEW 

SHORT  STORIES 


BY 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 


WITH   AN  ETCHED  PORTRAIT   BY  W.  H.   W.  BICKNELL 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1895 


Ps 


< 


Copyright,  1895,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


PREFACE 

THE  stories  contained  in  this  little  volume  were 
chosen,  by  virtue  of  a  sort  of  literary  civil-service 
examination,  in  order  that  they  might  be  grouped 
together  as  a  representative  class  of  the  author's 
best-known  work  in  this  line. 

Several  of  these  stories  have  points  of  peculiar 
interest  to  the  author.  For  instance,  "  Nega 
tive  Gravity  "  was  composed  in  Switzerland  when 
the  author  was  temporarily  confined  to  the  house 
in  full  view  of  unreachable  Alps. 

"  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister"  was  suggested 
by  an  editorial  disposition  to  compare  all  the 
author's  work  with  one  previous  production,  and 
to  discard  everything  which  did  not  accord  ex 
actly  with  the  particular  story  which  had  been 
selected  as  a  standard  of  merit. 

"  The  Lady,  or  the  Tiger?  "  was  printed  in  the 


vi  PREFA  CE 

hope  that  the  author  might  receive  the  cheerful 
cooperation  of  some  of  his  readers  in  a  satisfactory 
solution  of  the  problem  contained  in  the  little 
story ;  but  although  he  has  had  much  valuable 
assistance  in  this  direction  he  has  also  been  the 
recipient  of  a  great  deal  of  scolding. 

After  reading  several  stories  by  Clark  Russell, 
the  author's  mind  was  led  to  consider  the  possi 
bility  of  inventing  some  sort  of  shipwreck  which 
had  never  yet  been  made  the  subject  of  a  story. 
His  efforts  in  this  line  resulted  in  "  The  Remark 
able  Wreck  of  the  '  Thomas  Hyke.'  " 

"  A  Piece  of  Red  Calico  "  is  a  description,  with 
exaggerated  points,  of  an  actual  experience. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

A  TALK  OF  NEGATIVE  GRAVITY       ...  3 

From  "The  Christmas  Wreck" 
ASAPH          .         .          .      *V    ;>.         .         .          .41 

From  "The  Watchmaker' svWife " 
"  His  WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER  "    .    "   $        ,  97 

From  "  The  Lady,  or  the  Tiger? " 

THE  LADY,  OR  THE  TIGER?         .         .         .         -117 
THE    REMARKABLE    WRECK    OF    THE    "THOMAS 

HYKE" 131 

From  "  The  Christmas  Wreck  " 
OLD  PIPES  AND  THE  DRYAD         ....      167 

From  "  The  Bee-man  of  Orn  " 
THE  TRANSFERRED  GHOST       ....  197 

From  "  The  Lady,  or  the  Tiger?  " 
"THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  RELATIVE  EXISTENCES"    .      219 

From  "  The  Watchmaker's  Wife  " 
A  PIECE  OF  RED  CALICO          ....  233 

From  "The  Lady,  or  the  Tiger?" 


A  TALE  OF  NEGATIVE  GRAVITY 


A  TALE  OF  NEGATIVE  GRAVITY 


[|Y  wife  and  I  were  staying  at  a  small 
town  in  northern  Italy;  and  on  a  cer 
tain  pleasant  afternoon  in  spring  we 
had  taken  a  walk  of  six  or  seven  miles 
to  see  the  sun  set  behind  some  low  mountains  to 
the  west  of  the  town.  Most  of  our  walk  had 
been  along  a  hard,  smooth  highway,  and  then  we 
turned  into  a  series  of  narrower  roads,  sometimes 
bordered  by  walls,  and  sometimes  by  light  fences 
of  reed  or  cane.  Nearing  the  mountain,  to  a  low 
spur  of  which  we  intended  to  ascend,  we  easily 
scaled  a  wall  about  four  feet  high,  and  found  our 
selves  upon  pasture-land,  which  led,  sometimes  by 
gradual  ascents,  and  sometimes  by  bits  of  rough 
climbing,  to  the  spot  we  wished  to  reach.  We 
were  afraid  we  were  a  little  late,  and  therefore  hur 
ried  on,  running  up  the  grassy  hills,  and  bounding 
briskly  over  the  rough  and  rocky  places.  I  car 
ried  a  knapsack  strapped  firmly  to  my  shoulders, 


4  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

and  under  my  wife's  arm  was  a  large,  soft  basket 
of  a  kind  much  used  by  tourists.  Her  arm  was 
passed  through  the  handles  and  around  the  bottom 
of  the  basket,  which  she  pressed  closely  to  her 
side.  This  was  the  way  she  always  carried  it. 
The  basket  contained  two  bottles  of  wine,  one 
sweet  for  my  wife,  and  another  a  little  acid  for 
myself.  Sweet  wines  give  me  a  headache. 

When  we  reached  the  grassy  bluff,  well  known 
thereabouts  to  lovers  of  sunset  views,  I  stepped 
immediately  to  the  edge  to  gaze  upon  the  scene, 
but  my  wife  sat  down  to  take  a  sip  of  wine,  for 
she  was  very  thirsty ;  and  then,  leaving  her  basket, 
she  came  to  my  side.  The  scene  was  indeed  one 
of  great  beauty.  Beneath  us  stretched  a  wide 
valley  of  many  shades  of  green,  with  a  little  river 
running  through  it,  and  red-tiled  houses  here  and 
there.  Beyond  rose  a  range  of  mountains,  pink, 
pale  green,  and  purple  where  their  tips  caught  the 
reflection  of  the  setting  sun,  and  of  a  rich  gray- 
green  in  shadows.  Beyond  all  was  the  blue  Italian 
sky,  illumined  by  an  especially  fine  sunset. 

My  wife  and  I  are  Americans,  and  at  the  time 
of  this  story  were  middle-aged  people  and  very 
fond  of  seeing  in  each  other's  company  whatever 
there  was  of  interest  or  beauty  around  us.  We 
had  a  son  about  twenty-two  years  old,  of  whom 
we  were  also  very  fond ;  but  he  was  not  with  us, 
being  at  that  time  a  student  in  Germany.  Although 
we  had  good  health,  we  were  not  very  robust  peo- 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY          5 

pie,  and,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  not  much 
given  to  long  country  tramps.  I  was  of  medi 
um  size,  without  much  muscular  development, 
while  my  wife  was  quite  stout,  and  growing 
stouter. 

The  reader  may,  perhaps,  be  somewhat  sur 
prised  that  a  middle-aged  couple,  not  very  strong, 
or  very  good  walkers,  the  lady  loaded  with  a 
basket  containing  two  bottles  of  wine  and  a  metal 
drinking-cup,  and  the  gentleman  carrying  a  heavy 
knapsack,  filled  with  all  sorts  of  odds  and  ends, 
strapped  to  his  shoulders,  should  set  off  on  a 
seven-mile  walk,  jump  over  a  wall,  run  up  a  hill 
side,  and  yet  feel  in  very  good  trim  to  enjoy  a 
sunset  view.  This  peculiar  state  of  things  I  will 
proceed  to  explain. 

I  had  been  a  professional  man,  but  some  years 
before  had  retired  upon  a  very  comfortable  income. 
I  had  always  been  very  fond  of  scientific  pursuits, 
and  now  made  these  the  occupation  and  pleasure 
of  much  of  my  leisure  time.  Our  home  was  in 
a  small  town ;  and  in  a  corner  of  my  grounds  I 
built  a  laboratory,  where  I  carried  on  my  work 
and  my  experiments.  I  had  long  been  anxious  to 
discover  the  means  not  only  of  producing,  but  of 
retaining  and  controlling,  a  natural  force,  really 
the  same  as  centrifugal  force,  but  which  I  called 
negative  gravity.  This  name  I  adopted  because 
it  indicated  better  than  any  other  the  action  of 
the  force  in  question,  as  I  produced  it.  Positive 


6  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

gravity  attracts  everything  toward  the  centre  of  the 
earth.  Negative  gravity,  therefore,  would  be  that 
power  which  repels  everything  from  the  centre  of 
the  earth,  just  as  the  negative  pole  of  a  magnet 
repels  the  needle,  while  the  positive  pole  attracts 
it.  My  object  was,  in  fact,  to  store  centrifugal 
force  and  to  render  it  constant,  controllable,  and 
available  for  use.  The  advantages  of  such  a  dis 
covery  could  scarcely  be  described.  In  a  word, 
it  would  lighten  the  burdens  of  the  world. 

I  will  not  touch  upon  the  labors  and  disappoint 
ments  of  several  years.  It  is  enough  to  say  that 
at  last  I  discovered  a  method  of  producing,  stor 
ing,  and  controlling  negative  gravity. 

The  mechanism  of  my  invention  was  rather 
complicated,  but  the  method  of  operating  it  was 
very  simple.  A  strong  metallic  case,  about  eight 
inches  long,  and  half  as  wide,  contained  the  ma 
chinery  for  producing  the  force ;  and  this  was  put 
into  action  by  means  of  the  pressure  of  a  screw 
worked  from  the  outside.  As  soon  as  this  press 
ure  was  produced,  negative  gravity  began  to  be 
evolved  and  stored,  and  the  greater  the  pressure 
the  greater  the  force.  As  the  screw  was  moved 
outward,  and  the  pressure  diminished,  the  force 
decreased,  and  when  the  screw  was  withdrawn  to 
its  fullest  extent,  the  action  of  negative  gravity 
entirely  ceased.  Thus  this  force  could  be  pro 
duced  or  dissipated  at  will  to  such  degrees  as 
might  be  desired,  and  its  action,  so  long  as  the 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY          7 

requisite    pressure   was    maintained,    was    con 
stant. 

When  this  little  apparatus  worked  to  my  satis 
faction  I  called  my  wife  into  my  laboratory  and 
explained  to  her  my  invention  and  its  value.  She 
had  known  that  I  had  been  at  work  with  an  im 
portant  object,  but  I  had  never  told  her  what  it 
was.  I  had  said  that  if  I  succeeded  I  would  tell 
her  all,  but  if  I  failed  she  need  not  be  troubled 
with  the  matter  at  all.  Being  a  very  sensible 
woman,  this  satisfied  her  perfectly.  Now  I  ex 
plained  everything  to  her  —  the  construction  of 
the  machine,  and  the  wonderful  uses  to  which 
this  invention  could  be  applied.  I  told  her  that  it 
could  diminish,  or  entirely  dissipate,  the  weight 
of  objects  of  any  kind.  A  heavily  loaded  wagon, 
with  two  of  these  instruments  fastened  to  its 
sides,  and  each  screwed  to  a  proper  force,  would 
be  so  lifted  and  supported  that  it  would  press 
upon  the  ground  as  lightly  as  an  empty  cart,  and 
a  small  horse  could  draw  it  with  ease.  A  bale  of 
cotton,  with  one  of  these  machines  attached, 
could  be  handled  and  carried  by  a  boy.  A  car, 
with  a  number  of  these  machines,  could  be  made 
to  rise  in  the  air  like  a  balloon.  Everything,  in 
fact,  that  was  heavy  could  be  made  light ;  and  as 
a  great  part  of  labor,  all  over  the  world,  is  caused 
by  the  attraction  of  gravitation,  so  this  repellent 
force,  wherever  applied,  would  make  weight  less 
and  work  easier.  I  told  her  of  many,  many  ways 


8  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

in  which  the  invention  might  be  used,  and  would 
have  told  her  of  many  more  if  she  had  not  sud 
denly  burst  into  tears. 

"  The  world  has  gained  something  wonderful," 
she  exclaimed,  between  her  sobs,  "but  I  have 
lost  a  husband!  " 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  I  asked,  in 
surprise. 

"  I  haven't  minded  it  so  far,"  she  said,  "  be 
cause  it  gave  you  something  to  do,  and  it  pleased 
you,  and  it  never  interfered  with  our  home  pleas 
ures  and  our  home  life.  But  now  that  is  all 
over.  You  will  never  be  your  own  master  again. 
It  will  succeed,  I  am  sure,  and  you  may  make  a 
great  deal  of  money,  but  we  don't  need  money. 
What  we  need  is  the  happiness  which  we  have 
always  had  until  now.  Now  there  will  be  com 
panies,  and  patents,  and  lawsuits,  and  experi 
ments,  and  people  calling  you  a  humbug,  and 
other  people  saying  they  discovered  it  long  ago, 
and  all  sorts  of  persons  coming  to  see  you,  and 
you'll  be  obliged  to  go  to  all  sorts  of  places,  and 
you  will  be  an  altered  man,  and  we  shall  never  be 
happy  again.  Millions  of  money  will  not  repay 
us  for  the  happiness  we  have  lost." 

These  words  of  my  wife  struck  me  with  much 
force.  Before  I  had  called  her  my  mind  had  be 
gun  to  be  filled  and  perplexed  with  ideas  of  what 
I  ought  to  do  now  that  the  great  invention  was 
perfected.  Until  now  the  matter  had  not  troubled 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY          9 

me  at  all.  Sometimes  I  had  gone  backward  and 
sometimes  forward,  but,  on  the  whole,  I  had  al 
ways  felt  encouraged.  I  had  taken  great  pleasure 
in  the  work,  but  I  had  never  allowed  myself  to  be 
too  much  absorbed  by  it.  But  now  everything 
was  different.  I  began  to  feel  that  it  was  due  to 
myself  and  to  my  fellow-beings  that  I  should 
properly  put  this  invention  before  the  world. 
And  how  should  I  set  about  it?  What  steps 
should  I  take?  I  must  make  no  mistakes.  When 
the  matter  should  become  known  hundreds  of 
scientific  people  might  set  themselves  to  work; 
how  could  I  tell  but  that  they  might  discover 
other  methods  of  producing  the  same  effect?  I 
must  guard  myself  against  a  great  many  things. 
I  must  get  patents  in  all  parts  of  the  world. 
Already,  as  I  have  said,  my  mind  began  to  be 
troubled  and  perplexed  with  these  things.  A 
turmoil  of  this  sort  did  not  suit  my  age  or  dispo 
sition.  I  could  not  but  agree  with  my  wife  that 
the  joys  of  a  quiet  and  contented  life  were  now 
about  to  be  broken  into. 

"  My  dear,"  said  I,  "  I  believe,  with  you,  that 
the  thing  will  do  us  more  harm  than  good.  If  it 
were  not  for  depriving  the  world  of  the  invention 
I  would  throw  the  whole  thing  to  the  winds. 
And  yet,"  I  added,  regretfully,  "  I  had  expected 
a  great  deal  of  personal  gratification  from  the  use 
of  this  invention." 

"  Now  listen,"  said  my  wife,  eagerly;  "  don't 


io  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

you  think  it  would  be  best  to  do  this :  use  the 
thing  as  much  as  you  please  for  your  own  amuse 
ment  and  satisfaction,  but  let  the  world  wait?  It 
has  waited  a  long  time,  and  let  it  wait  a  little 
longer.  When  we  are  dead  let  Herbert  have  the 
invention.  He  will  then  be  old  enough  to  judge 
for  himself  whether  it  will  be  better  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  it  for  his  own  profit,  or  simply  to  give 
it  to  the  public  for  nothing.  It  would  be  cheat 
ing  him  if  we  were  to  do  the  latter,  but  it  would 
also  be  doing  him  a  great  wrong  if  we  were,  at  his 
age,  to  load  him  with  such  a  heavy  responsibility. 
Besides,  if  he  took  it  up,  you  could  not  help  going 
into  it,  too." 

I  took  my  wife's  advice.  I  wrote  a  careful  and 
complete  account  of  the  invention,  and,  sealing  it 
up,  I  gave  it  to  my  lawyers  to  be  handed  to  my 
son  after  my  death.  If  he  died  first,  I  would 
make  other  arrangements.  Then  I  determined  to 
get  all  the  good  and  fun  out  of  the  thing  that  was 
possible  without  telling  any  one  anything  about  it. 
Even  Herbert,  who  was  away  from  home,  was  not 
to  be  told  of  the  invention. 

The  first  thing  I  did  was  to  buy  a  strong 
leathern  knapsack,  and  inside  of  this  I  fastened 
my  little  machine,  with  a  screw  so  arranged  that 
it  could  be  worked  from  the  outside.  Strapping 
this  firmly  to  my  shoulders,  my  wife  gently  turned 
the  screw  at  the  back  until  the  upward  tendency 
of  the  knapsack  began  to  lift  and  sustain  me. 


A    TALE  OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        n 

When  I  felt  myself  so  gently  supported  and  up 
held  that  I  seemed  to  weigh  about  thirty  or  forty 
pounds,  I  would  set  out  for  a  walk.  The  knap 
sack  did  not  raise  me  from  the  ground,  but  it 
gave  me  a  very  buoyant  step.  It  was  no  labor  at 
all  to  walk ;  it  was  a  delight,  an  ecstasy.  With 
the  strength  of  a  man  and  the  weight  of  a  child,  I 
gayly  strode  along.  The  first  day  I  walked  half 
a  dozen  miles  at  a  very  brisk  pace,  and  came  back 
without  feeling  in  the  least  degree  tired.  These 
walks  now  became  one  of  the  greatest  joys  of  my 
life.  When  nobody  was  looking,  I  would  bound 
over  a  fence,  sometimes  just  touching  it  with  one 
hand,  and  sometimes  not  touching  it  at  all.  I  de 
lighted  in  rough  places.  I  sprang  over  streams. 
I  jumped  and  I  ran.  I  felt  like  Mercury  himself. 

I  now  set  about  making  another  machine,  so 
that  my  wife  could  accompany  me  in  my  walks  ; 
but  when  it  was  finished  she  positively  refused 
to  use  it.  "I  can't  wear  a  knapsack,"  she  said, 
"  and  there  is  no  other  good  way  of  fastening  it 
to  me.  Besides,  everybody  about  here  knows  I  am 
no  walker,  and  it  would  only  set  them  talking." 

I  occasionally  made  use  of  this  second  machine, 
but  I  will  give  only  one  instance  of  its  application. 
Some  repairs  were  needed  to  the  foundation -walls 
of  my  barn,  and  a  two-horse  wagon,  loaded  with 
building-stone,  had  been  brought  into  my  yard 
and  left  there.  In  the  evening,  when  the  men 
had  gone  away,  I  took  my  two  machines  and 


12  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

fastened  them,  with  strong  chains,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  loaded  wagon.  Then,  gradually  turn 
ing  the  screws,  the  wagon  was  so  lifted  that  its 
weight  became  very  greatly  diminished.  We  had 
an  old  donkey  which  used  to  belong  to  Herbert, 
and  which  was  now  occasionally  used  with  a 
small  cart  to  bring  packages  from  the  station.  I 
went  into  the  barn  and  put  the  harness  on  the 
little  fellow,  and,  bringing  him  out  to  the  wagon, 
I  attached  him  to  it.  In  this  position  he  looked 
very  funny  with  a  long  pole  sticking  out  in  front 
of  him  and  the  great  wagon  behind  him.  When 
all  was  ready  I  touched  him  up ;  and,  to  my  great 
delight,  he  moved  off  with  the  two-horse  load  of 
stone  as  easily  as  if  he  were  drawing  his  own 
cart.  I  led  him  out  into  the  public  road,  along 
which  he  proceeded  without  difficulty.  He  was 
an  opinionated  little  beast,  and  sometimes  stopped, 
not  liking  the  peculiar  manner  in  which  he  was 
harnessed ;  but  a  touch  of  the  switch  made  him 
move  on,  and  I  soon  turned  him  and  brought  the 
wagon  back  into  the  yard.  This  determined  the 
success  of  my  invention  in  one  of  its  most  im 
portant  uses,  and  with  a  satisfied  heart  I  put  the 
donkey  into  the  stable  and  went  into  the  house. 

Our  trip  to  Europe  was  made  a  few  months 
after  this,  and  was  mainly  on  our  son  Herbert's 
account.  He,  poor  fellow,  was  in  great  trouble, 
and  so,  therefore,  were  we.  He  had  become  en 
gaged,  with  our  full  consent,  to  a  young  lady  in 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        13 

our  town,  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  whom  we 
esteemed  very  highly.  Herbert  was  young  to  be 
engaged  to  be  married,  but  as  we  felt  that  he 
would  never  find  a  girl  to  make  him  so  good 
a  wife,  we  were  entirely  satisfied,  especially  as  it 
was  agreed  on  all  hands  that  the  marriage  was 
not  to  take  place  for  some  time.  It  seemed  to 
us  that,  in  marrying  Janet  Gilbert,  Herbert  would 
secure  for  himself,  in  the  very  beginning  of  his 
career,  the  most  important  element  of  a  happy 
life.  But  suddenly,  without  any  reason  that 
seemed  to  us  justifiable,  Mr.  Gilbert,  the  only 
surviving  parent  of  Janet,  broke  off  the  match ; 
and  he  and  his  daughter  soon  after  left  the  town 
for  a  trip  to  the  West. 

This  blow  nearly  broke  poor  Herbert's  heart. 
He  gave  up  his  professional  studies  and  came 
home  to  us,  and  for  a  time  we  thought  he  would 
be  seriously  ill.  Then  we  took  him  to  Europe, 
and  after  a  Continental  tour  of  a  month  or  two 
we  left  him,  at  his  own  request,  in  Gottingen, 
where  he  thought  it  would  do  him  good  to  go  to 
work  again.  Then  we  went  down  to  the  little 
town  in  Italy  where  my  story  first  finds  us.  My 
wife  had  suffered  much  in  mind  and  body  on  her 
son's  account,  and  for  this  reason  I  was  anxious 
that  she  should  take  outdoor  exercise,  and  enjoy 
as  much  as  possible  the  bracing  air  of  the  country. 
I  had  brought  with  me  both  my  little  machines. 
One  was  still  in  my  knapsack,  and  the  other  I 


14  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

had  fastened  to  the  inside  of  an  enormous  family 
trunk.  As  one  is  obliged  to  pay  for  nearly  every 
pound  of  his  baggage  on  the  Continent,  this  saved 
me  a  great  deal  of  money.  Everything  heavy  was 
packed  into  this  great  trunk  —  books,  papers,  the 
bronze,  iron,  and  marble  relics  we  had  picked 
up,  and  all  the  articles  that  usually  weigh  clown 
a  tourist's  baggage.  I  screwed  up  the  negative- 
gravity  apparatus  until  the  trunk  could  be  handled 
with  great  ease  by  an  ordinary  porter.  I  could 
have  made  it  weigh  nothing  at  all,  but  this,  of 
course,  I  did  not  wish  to  do.  The  lightness  of 
my  baggage,  however,  had  occasioned  some  com 
ment,  and  I  had  overheard  remarks  which  were 
not  altogether  complimentary  about  people  travel 
ling  around  with  empty  trunks ;  but  this  only 
amused  me. 

Desirous  that  my  wife  should  have  the  advan 
tage  of  negative  gravity  while  taking  our  walks,  I 
had  removed  the  machine  from  the  trunk  and 
fastened  it  inside  of  the  basket,  which  she  could 
carry  under  her  arm.  This  assisted  her  wonder 
fully.  When  one  arm  was  tired  she  put  the 
basket  under  the  other,  and  thus,  with  one  hand 
on  my  arm,  she  could  easily  keep  up  with  the 
free  and  buoyant  steps  my  knapsack  enabled  me 
to  take.  She  did  not  object  to  long  tramps  here, 
because  nobody  knew  that  she  was  not  a  walker, 
and  she  always  carried  some  wine  or  other  re 
freshment  in  the  basket,  not  only  because  it  was 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        15 

pleasant  to  have  it  with  us,  but  because  it  seemed 
ridiculous  to  go  about  carrying  an  empty  basket. 

There  were  English-speaking  people  stopping 
at  the  hotel  where  we  were,  but  they  seemed 
more  fond  of  driving  than  walking,  and  none  of 
them  offered  to  accompany  us  on  our  rambles, 
for  which  we  were  very  glad.  There  was  one 
man  there,  however,  who  was  a  great  walker. 
He  was  an  Englishman,  a  member  of  an  Alpine 
Club,  and  generally  went  about  dressed  in  a 
knickerbocker  suit,  with  gray  woollen  stockings 
covering  an  enormous  pair  of  calves.  One  even 
ing  this  gentleman  was  talking  to  me  and  some 
others  about  the  ascent  of  the  Matterhorn,  and  I 
took  occasion  to  deliver  in  pretty  strong  language 
my  opinion  upon  such  exploits.  I  declared  them 
to  be  useless,  foolhardy,  and,  if  the  climber  had 
any  one  who  loved  him,  wicked. 

"  Even  if  the  weather  should  permit  a  view,"  I 
said,  "  what  is  that  compared  to  the  terrible  risk 
to  life?  Under  certain  circumstances,"  I  added 
(thinking  of  a  kind  of  waistcoat  I  had  some  idea 
of  making,  which,  set  about  with  little  negative- 
gravity  machines,  all  connected  with  a  conven 
iently  handled  screw,  would  enable  the  wearer  at 
times  to  dispense  with  his  weight  altogether), 
"such  ascents  might  be  divested  of  danger,  and 
be  quite  admissible ;  but  ordinarily  they  should 
be  frowned  upon  by  the  intelligent  public." 

The  Alpine  Club  man  looked  at  me,  especially 


16  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

regarding  my  somewhat  slight  figure  and  thinnish 
legs. 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk  that  way,"  he 
said,  "  because  it  is  easy  to  see  that  you  are  not 
up  to  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  In  conversations  of  this  kind,"  I  replied,  "  I 
never  make  personal  allusions ;  but  since  you 
have  chosen  to  do  so,  I  feel  inclined  to  invite 
you  to  walk  with  me  to-morrow  to  the  top  of  the 
mountain  to  the  north  of  this  town." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  he  said,  "  at  any  time  you  choose 
to  name."  And  as  I  left  the  room  soon  afterward 
I  heard  him  laugh. 

The  next  afternoon,  about  two  o'clock,  the 
Alpine  Club  man  and  myself  set  out  for  the 
mountain. 

"  What  have  you  got  in  your  knapsack?  "  he 
said. 

"  A  hammer  to  use  if  I  come  across  geological 
specimens,  a  field-glass,  a  flask  of  wine,  and  some 
other  things." 

"  I  wouldn't  carry  any  weight,  if  I  were  you," 
he  said. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  it,"  I  answered,  and  off  we 
started. 

The  mountain  to  which  we  were  bound  was 
about  two  miles  from  the  town.  Its  nearest  side 
was  steep,  and  in  places  almost  precipitous,  but 
it  sloped  away  more  gradually  toward  the  north, 
and  up  that  side  a  road  led  by  devious  windings 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        17 

to  a  village  near  the  summit.  It  was  not  a  very 
high  mountain,  but  it  would  do  for  an  afternoon's 
climb. 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  go  up  by  the  road," 
said  my  companion. 

"  Oh  no,"  I  answered,  "  we  won't  go  so  far 
around  as  that.  There  is  a  path  up  this  side, 
along  which  I  have  seen  men  driving  their  goats. 
I  prefer  to  take  that." 

"  All  right,  if  you  say  so,"  he  answered,  with 
a  smile;  "  but  you'll  find  it  pretty  tough." 

After  a  time  he  remarked : 

"  I  wouldn't  walk  so  fast,  if  I  were  you." 

"Oh,  I  like  to  step  along  briskly,"  I  said. 
And  briskly  on  we  went. 

My  wife  had  screwed  up  the  machine  in  the 
knapsack  more  than  usual,  and  walking  seemed 
scarcely  any  effort  at  all.  I  carried  a  long  alpen 
stock,  and  when  we  reached  the  mountain  and  be 
gan  the  ascent,  I  found  that  with  the  help  of  this 
and  my  knapsack  I  could  go  uphill  at  a  wonderful 
rate.  My  companion  had  taken  the  lead,  so  as  to 
show  me  how  to  climb.  Making  a  detour  over 
some  rocks,  I  quickly  passed  him  and  went 
ahead.  After  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
keep  up  with  me.  I  ran  up  steep  places,  I  cut 
off  the  windings  of  the  path  by  lightly  clambering 
over  rocks,  and  even  when  I  followed  the  beaten 
track  my  step  was  as  rapid  as  if  I  had  been  walk 
ing  on  level  ground. 


i8  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  Look  here!  "  shouted  the  Alpine  Club  man 
from  below,  "  you'll  kill  yourself  if  you  go  at 
that  rate!  That's  no  way  to  climb  mountains." 

"  It's  my  way!  "  I  cried.     And  on  I  skipped. 

Twenty  minutes  after  I  arrived  at  the  summit 
my  companion  joined  me,  puffing,  and  wiping  his 
red  face  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  Confound  it!  "  he  cried,  "  I  never  came  up  a 
mountain  so  fast  in  my  life." 

"  You  need  not  have  hurried,"  I  said,  coolly. 

"  I  was  afraid  something  would  happen  to 
you,"  he  growled,  "  and  I  wanted  to  stop  you. 
I  never  saw  a  person  climb  in  such  an  utterly 
absurd  way." 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  call  it  absurd,"  I 
said,  smiling  with  an  air  of  superiority.  "  I  ar 
rived  here  in  a  perfectly  comfortable  condition, 
neither  heated  nor  wearied." 

He  made  no  answer,  but  walked  off  to  a  little 
distance,  fanning  himself  with  his  hat  and  growl 
ing  words  which  I  did  not  catch.  After  a  time 
I  proposed  to  descend. 

"  You  must  be  careful  as  you  go  down,"  he 
said.  "It  is  much  more  dangerous  to  go  down 
steep  places  than  to  climb  up." 

"  I  am  always  prudent,"  I  answered,  and 
started  in  advance.  I  found  the  descent  of  the 
mountain  much  more  pleasant  than  the  ascent. 
It  was  positively  exhilarating.  I  jumped  from 
rocks  and  bluffs  eight  and  ten  feet  in  height,  and 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        19 

touched  the  ground  as  gently  as  if  I  had  stepped 
down  but  two  feet.  I  ran  down  steep  paths,  and, 
with  the  aid  of  my  alpenstock,  stopped  myself  in 
an  instant.  I  was  careful  to  avoid  dangerous 
places,  but  the  runs  and  jumps  I  made  were  such 
as  no  man  had  ever  made  before  upon  that  moun 
tain-side.  Once  only  I  heard  my  companion's 
voice. 

"  You'll  break  your neck!  "  he  yelled. 

"  Never  fear!  "  I  called  back,  and  soon  left  him 
far  above. 

When  I  reached  the  bottom  I  would  have 
waited  for  him,  but  my  activity  had  warmed  me 
up,  and  as  a  cool  evening  breeze  was  beginning 
to  blow  I  thought  it  better  not  to  stop  and  take 
cold.  Half  an  hour  after  my  arrival  at  the  hotel 
I  came  down  to  the  court,  cool,  fresh,  and  dressed 
for  dinner,  and  just  in  time  to  meet  the  Alpine  man 
as  he  entered,  hot,  dusty,  and  growling. 

"  Excuse  me  for  not  waiting  for  you,"  I  said ; 
but  without  stopping  to  hear  my  reason,  he  mut 
tered  something  about  waiting  in  a  place  where 
no  one  would  care  to  stay,  and  passed  into  the 
house. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  what  I  had  done  grati 
fied  my  pique  and  tickled  my  vanity. 

"  I  think  now,"  I  said,  when  I  related  the 
matter  to  my  wife,  "that  he  will  scarcely  say 
that  I  am  not  up  to  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  she  answered,  "  that  it  was 


zo  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

exactly  fair.  He  did  not  know  how  you  were 
assisted." 

"It  was  fair  enough,"  I  said.  "He  is  en 
abled  to  climb  well  by  the  inherited  vigor  of  his 
constitution  and  by  his  training.  He  did  not  tell 
me  what  methods  of  exercise  he  used  to  get  those 
great  muscles  upon  his  legs.  I  am  enabled  to 
climb  by  the  exercise  of  my  intellect.  My  method 
is  my  business  and  his  method  is  his  business. 
It  is  all  perfectly  fair." 

Still  she  persisted : 

"  He  thought  that  you  climbed  with  your  legs, 
and  not  with  your  head." 

And  now,  after  this  long  digression,  necessary 
to  explain  how  a  middle-aged  couple  of  slight 
pedestrian  ability,  and  loaded  with  a  heavy  knap 
sack  and  basket,  should  have  started  out  on  a 
rough  walk  and  climb,  fourteen  miles  in  all,  we 
will  return  to  ourselves,  standing  on  the  little 
bluff  and  gazing  out  upon  the  sunset  view. 
When  the  sky  began  to  fade  a  little  we  turned 
from  it  and  prepared  to  go  back  to  the  town. 

"  Where  is  the  basket?  "  I  said. 

"  I  left  it  right  here,"  answered  my  wife.  "  I 
unscrewed  the  machine  and  it  lay  perfectly  flat." 

"  Did  you  afterward  take  out  the  bottles?  "  I 
asked,  seeing  them  lying  on  the  grass. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  did.  I  had  to  take  out  yours 
in  order  to  get  at  mine." 

"Then,"  said  I,  after  looking  all  about  the 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        21 

grassy  patch  on  which  we  stood,  "I  am  afraid 
you  did  not  entirely  unscrew  the  instrument,  and 
that  when  the  weight  of  the  bottles  was  removed 
the  basket  gently  rose  into  the  air." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  she  said,  lugubriously.  "  The 
basket  was  behind  me  as  I  drank  my  wine." 

"  I  believe  that  is  just  what  has  happened,"  I 
said.  "  Look  up  there!  I  vow  that  is  our 
basket!  " 

I  pulled  out  my  field-glass  and  directed  it  at  a 
little  speck  high  above  our  heads.  It  was  the 
basket  floating  high  in  the  air.  I  gave  the  glass 
to  my  wife  to  look,  but  she  did  not  want  to  use  it. 

"  What  shall  I  do?  "  she  cried.  "  I  can't  walk 
home  without  that  basket.  It's  perfectly  dread 
ful!  "  And  she  looked  as  if  she  was  going  to 
cry. 

"  Do  not  distress  yourself,"  I  said,  although  I 
was  a  good  deal  disturbed  myself.  "  We  shall 
get  home  very  well.  You  shall  put  your  hand 
on  my  shoulder,  while  I  put  my  arm  around  you. 
Then  you  can  screw  up  my  machine  a  good  deal 
higher,  and  it  will  support  us  both.  In  this  way 
I  am  sure  that  we  shall  get  on  very  well." 

We  carried  out  this  plan,  and  managed  to  walk 
on  with  moderate  comfort.  To  be  sure,  with  the 
knapsack  pulling  me  upward,  and  the  weight  of 
my  wife  pulling  me  down,  the  straps  hurt  me 
somewhat,  which  they  had  not  done  before.  We 
did  not  spring  lightly  over  the  wall  into  the  road, 


22  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

but,  still  clinging  to  each  other,  we  clambered 
awkwardly  over  it.  The  road  for  the  most  part 
declined  gently  toward  the  town,  and  with  moder 
ate  ease  we  made  our  way  along  it.  But  we 
walked  much  more  slowly  than  we  had  done  be 
fore,  and  it  was  quite  dark  when  we  reached  our 
hotel.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  light  inside  the 
court  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  us  to  find  it. 
A  travelling-carriage  was  standing  before  the  en 
trance,  and  against  the  light.  It  was  necessary 
to  pass  around  it,  and  my  wife  went  first.  I  at 
tempted  to  follow  her,  but,  strange  to  say,  there 
was  nothing  under  my  feet.  I  stepped  vigor 
ously,  but  only  wagged  my  legs  in  the  air.  To 
my  horror  I  found  that  I  was  rising  in  the  air!  I 
soon  saw,  by  the  light  below  me,  that  I  was  some 
fifteen  feet  from  the  ground.  The  carriage  drove 
away,  and  in  the  darkness  I  was  not  noticed.  Of 
course  I  knew  what  had  happened.  The  instru 
ment  in  my  knapsack  had  been  screwed  up  to  such 
an  intensity,  in  order  to  support  both  myself  and 
my  wife,  that  when  her  weight  was  removed  the 
force  of  the  negative  gravity  was  sufficient  to  raise 
me  from  the  ground.  But  I  was  glad  to  find  that 
when  I  had  risen  to  the  height  I  have  mentioned 
I  did  not  go  up  any  higher,  but  hung  in  the  air, 
about  on  a  level  with  the  second  tier  of  windows 
of  the  hotel. 

I  now  began  to  try  to  reach  the  screw  in  my 
knapsack  in  order  to  reduce  the  force  of  the  neg- 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        23 

ative  gravity ;  but,  do  what  I  would,  I  could  not 
get  my  hand  to  it.  The  machine  in  the  knapsack 
had  been  placed  so  as  to  support  me  in  a  well- 
balanced  and  comfortable  way ;  and  in  doing  this 
it  had  been  impossible  to  set  the  screw  so  that  I 
could  reach  it.  But  in  a  temporary  arrangement 
of  the  kind  this  had  not  been  considered  necessary, 
as  my  wife  always  turned  the  screw  for  me  until 
sufficient  lifting  power  had  been  attained.  I  had 
intended,  as  I  have  said  before,  to  construct  a 
negative-gravity  waistcoat,  in  which  the  screw 
should  be  in  front,  and  entirely  under  the  wearer's 
control;  but  this  was  a  thing  of  the  future. 

When  I  found  that  I  could  not  turn  the  screw 
I  began  to  be  much  alarmed.  Here  I  was, 
dangling  in  the  air,  without  any  means  of  reach 
ing  the  ground.  I  could  not  expect  my  wife  to 
return  to  look  for  me,  as  she  would  naturally 
suppose  I  had  stopped  to  speak  to  some  one.  I 
thought  of  loosening  myself  from  the  knapsack, 
but  this  would  not  do,  for  I  should  fall  heavily, 
and  either  kill  myself  or  break  some  of  my  bones. 
I  did  not  dare  to  call  for  assistance,  for  if  any  of 
the  simple-minded  inhabitants  of  the  town  had 
discovered  me  floating  in  the  air  they  would  have 
taken  me  for  a  demon,  and  would  probably  have 
shot  at  me.  A  moderate  breeze  was  blowing,  and 
it  wafted  me  gently  down  the  street.  If  it  had 
blown  me  against  a  tree  I  would  have  seized  it, 
and  have  endeavored,  so  to  speak,  to  climb  down 


24  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

it ;  but  there  were  no  trees.  There  was  a  dim 
street-lamp  here  and  there,  but  reflectors  above 
them  threw  their  light  upon  the  pavement,  and 
none  up  to  me.  On  many  accounts  I  was  glad 
that  the  night  was  so  dark,  for,  much  as  I  desired 
to  get  down,  I  wanted  no  one  to  see  me  in  my 
strange  position,  which,  to  any  one  but  myself 
and  wife,  would  be  utterly  unaccountable.  If  I 
could  rise  as  high  as  the  roofs  I  might  get  on 
one  of  them,  and,  tearing  off  an  armful  of  tiles, 
so  load  myself  that  I  would  be  heavy  enough  to 
descend.  But  I  did  not  rise  to  the  eaves  of  any 
of  the  houses.  If  there  had  been  a  telegraph- 
pole,  or  anything  of  the  kind  that  I  could  have 
clung  to,  I  would  have  taken  off  the  knapsack, 
and  would  have  endeavored  to  scramble  down  as 
well  as  I  could.  But  there  was  nothing  I  could 
cling  to.  Even  the  water-spouts,  if  I  could  have 
reached  the  face  of  the  houses,  were  embedded  in 
the  walls.  At  an  open  window,  near  which  I  was 
slowly  blown,  I  saw  two  little  boys  going  to  bed 
by  the  light  of  a  dim  candle.  I  was  dreadfully 
afraid  that  they  would  see  me  and  raise  an  alarm. 
I  actually  came  so  near  to  the  window  that  I 
threw  out  one  foot  and  pushed  against  the  wall 
with  such  force  that  I  went  nearly  across  the 
street.  I  thought  I  caught  sight  of  a  frightened 
look  on  the  face  of  one  of  the  boys  ;  but  of  this  I 
am  not  sure,  and  I  heard  no  cries.  I  still  floated, 
dangling,  down  the  street.  What  was  to  be  done? 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        25 

Should  I  call  out?  In  that  case,  if  I  were  not 
shot  or  stoned,  my  strange  predicament,  and  the 
secret  of  my  invention,  would  be  exposed  to  the 
world.  If  I  did  not  do  this,  I  must  either  let  my 
self  drop  and  be  killed  or  mangled,  or  hang  there 
and  die.  When,  during  the  course  of  the  night, 
the  air  became  more  rarefied,  I  might  rise  higher 
and  higher,  perhaps  to  an  altitude  of  one  or  two 
hundred  feet.  It  would  then  be  impossible  for 
the  people  to  reach  me  and  get  me  down,  even  if 
they  were  convinced  that  I  was  not  a  demon.  I 
should  then  expire,  and  when  the  birds  of  the  air 
had  eaten  all  of  me  that  they  could  devour,  I 
should  forever  hang  above  the  unlucky  town,  a 
dangling  skeleton  with  a  knapsack  on  its  back. 

Such  thoughts  were  not  reassuring,  and  I  de 
termined  that  if  I  could  find  no  means  of  getting 
down  without  assistance,  I  would  call  out  and 
run  all  risks ;  but  so  long  as  I  could  endure  the 
tension  of  the  straps  I  would  hold  out,  and  hope 
for  a  tree  or  a  pole.  Perhaps  it  might  rain,  and 
my  wet  clothes  would  then  become  so  heavy  that 
I  would  descend  as  low  as  the  top  of  a  lamp-post. 

As  this  thought  was  passing  through  my  mind 
I  saw  a  spark  of  light  upon  the  street  approach 
ing  me.  I  rightly  imagined  that  it  came  from  a 
tobacco-pipe,  and  presently  I  heard  a  voice.  It 
was  that  of  the  Alpine  Club  man.  Of  all  people 
in  the  world  I  did  not  want  him  to  discover  me, 
and  I  hung  as  motionless  as  possible.  The  man 


26  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

was  speaking  to  another  person  who  was  walking 
with  him. 

"  He  is  crazy  beyond  a  doubt,"  said  the  Alpine 
man.  "  Nobody  but  a  maniac  could  have  gone  up 
and  down  that  mountain  as  he  did!  He  hasn't 
any  muscles,  and  one  need  only  look  at  him  to 
know  that  he  couldn't  do  any  climbing  in  a  nat 
ural  way.  It  is  only  the  excitement  of  insanity 
that  gives  him  strength." 

The  two  now  stopped  almost  under  me,  and 
the  speaker  continued : 

"  Such  things  are  very  common  with  maniacs. 
At  times  they  acquire  an  unnatural  strength  which 
is  perfectly  wonderful.  I  have  seen  a  little  fellow 
struggle  and  fight  so  that  four  strong  men  could 
not  hold  him." 

Then  the  other  person  spoke. 

"  I  am  afraid  what  you  say  is  too  true,"  he  re 
marked.  "Indeed,  I  have  known  it  for  sometime." 

At  these  words  my  breath  almost  stopped.  It 
was  the  voice  of  Mr.  Gilbert,  my  townsman,  and 
the  father  of  Janet.  It  must  have  been  he  who 
had  arrived  in  the  travelling-carriage.  He  was  ac 
quainted  with  the  Alpine  Club  man,  and  they  were 
talking  of  me.  Proper  or  improper,  I  listened 
with  all  my  ears. 

"  It  is  a  very  sad  case,"  Mr.  Gilbert  continued. 
"  My  daughter  was  engaged  to  marry  his  son, 
but  I  broke  off  the  match.  I  could  not  have  her 
marry  the  son  of  a  lunatic,  and  there  could  be  no 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        27 

doubt  of  his  condition.  He  has  been  seen  —  a 
man  of  his  age,  and  the  head  of  a  family  —  to 
load  himself  up  with  a  heavy  knapsack,  which 
there  was  no  earthly  necessity  for  him  to  carry, 
and  go  skipping  along  the  road  for  miles,  vaulting 
over  fences  and  jumping  over  rocks  and  ditches 
like  a  young  calf  or  a  colt.  I  myself  saw  a  most 
heartrending  instance  of  how  a  kindly  man's  na 
ture  can  be  changed  by  the  derangement  of  his 
intellect.  I  was  at  some  distance  from  his  house, 
but  I  plainly  saw  him  harness  a  little  donkey 
which  he  owns  to  a  large  two-horse  wagon  loaded 
with  stone,  and  beat  and  lash  the  poor  little  beast 
until  it  drew  the  heavy  load  some  distance  along 
the  public  road.  I  would  have  remonstrated  with 
him  on  this  horrible  cruelty,  but  he  had  the  wagon 
back  in  his  yard  before  I  could  reach  him." 

"  Oh,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  his  insanity," 
said  the  Alpine  Club  man,  "  and  he  oughtn't  to  be 
allowed  to  travel  about  in  this  way.  Some  day  he 
will  pitch  his  wife  over  a  precipice  just  for  the  fun 
of  seeing  her  shoot  through  the  air." 

"  I  am  sorry  he  is  here,"  said  Mr.  Gilbert, 
"  for  it  would  be  very  painful  to  meet  him.  My 
daughter  and  I  will  retire  very  soon,  and  go 
away  as  early  to-morrow  morning  as  possible,  so 
as  to  avoid  seeing  him." 

And  then  they  walked  back  to  the  hotel. 

For  a  few  moments  I  hung,  utterly  forgetful  of 
my  condition,  and  absorbed  in  the  consideration 


28  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

of  these  revelations.  One  idea  now  filled  my 
mind.  Everything  must  be  explained  to  Mr. 
Gilbert,  even  if  it  should  be  necessary  to  have 
him  called  to  me,  and  for  me  to  speak  to  him 
from  the  upper  air. 

Just  then  I  saw  something  white  approaching 
me  along  the  road.  My  eyes  had  become  accus 
tomed  to  the  darkness,  and  I  perceived  that  it  was 
an  upturned  face.  I  recognized  the  hurried  gait, 
the  form ;  it  was  my  wife.  As  she  came  near 
me,  I  called  her  name,  and  in  the  same  breath 
entreated  her  not  to  scream.  It  must  have  been 
an  effort  for  her  to  restrain  herself,  but  she  did  it. 

"  You  must  help  me  to  get  down,"  I  said, 
"  without  anybody  seeing  us." 

"  What  shall  I  do?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Try  to  catch  hold  of  this  string." 

Taking  a  piece  of  twine  from  my  pocket,  I  low 
ered  one  end  to  her.  But  it  was  too  short ;  she 
could  not  reach  it.  I  then  tied  my  handkerchief 
to  it,  but  still  it  was  not  long  enough. 

"  I  can  get  more  string,  or  handkerchiefs,"  she 
whispered,  hurriedly. 

"  No,"  I  said;  "  you  could  not  get  them  up  to 
me.  But,  leaning  against  the  hotel  wall,  on  this 
side,  in  the  corner,  just  inside  of  the  garden  gate, 
are  some  fishing-poles.  I  have  seen  them  there 
every  day.  You  can  easily  find  them  in  the  dark. 
Go,  please,  and  bring  me  one  of  those." 

The  hotel  was  not  far  away,  and  in  a  few  min- 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY         29 

utes  my  wife  returned  with  a  fishing-pole.  She 
stood  on  tiptoe,  and  reached  it  high  in  air;  but 
all  she  could  do  was  to  strike  my  feet  and  legs 
with  it.  My  most  frantic  exertions  did  not  en 
able  me  to  get  my  hands  low  enough  to  touch  it. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  she  said;  and  the  rod  was 
withdrawn. 

I  knew  what  she  was  doing.  There  was  a 
hook  and  line  attached  to  the  pole,  and  with 
womanly  dexterity  she  was  fastening  the  hook  to 
the  extreme  end  of  the  rod.  Soon  she  reached 
up,  and  gently  struck  at  my  legs.  After  a  few 
attempts  the  hook  caught  in  my  trousers,  a  little 
below  my  right  knee.  Then  there  was  a  slight 
pull,  a  long  scratch  down  my  leg,  and  the  hook 
was  stopped  by  the  top  of  my  boot.  Then  came 
a  steady  downward  pull,  and  I  felt  myself  de 
scending.  Gently  and  firmly  the  rod  was  drawn 
down  ;  carefully  the  lower  end  was  kept  free  from 
the  ground  ;  and  in  a  few  moments  my  ankle  was 
seized  with  a  vigorous  grasp.  Then  some  one 
seemed  to  climb  up  me,  my  feet  touched  the 
ground,  an  arm  was  thrown  around  my  neck,  the 
hand  of  another  arm  was  busy  at  the  back  of  my 
knapsack,  and  I  soon  stood  firmly  in  the  road, 
entirely  divested  of  negative  gravity. 

"  Oh  that  I  should  have  forgotten,"  sobbed 
my  wife,  "  and  that  I  should  have  dropped  your 
arms  and  let  you  go  up  into  the  air!  At  first  I 
thought  that  you  had  stopped  below,  and  it  was 


3o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

only  a  little  while  ago  that  the  truth  flashed  upon 
me.  Then  I  rushed  out  and  began  looking  up  for 
you.  I  knew  that  you  had  wax  matches  in  your 
pocket,  and  hoped  that  you  would  keep  on  strik 
ing  them,  so  that  you  would  be  seen." 

"  But  I  did  not  wish  to  be  seen,"  I  said,  as  we 
hurried  to  the  hotel;  "  and  I  can  never  be  suffi 
ciently  thankful  that  it  was  you  who  found  me  and 
brought  me  down.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  Mr. 
Gilbert  and  his  daughter  who  have  just  arrived? 
I  must  see  him  instantly.  I  will  explain  it  all  to 
you  when  I  come  upstairs." 

I  took  off  my  knapsack  and  gave  it  to  my  wife, 
who  carried  it  to  our  room,  while  I  went  to  look 
for  Mr.  Gilbert.  Fortunately  I  found  him  just 
as  he  was  about  to  go  up  to  his  chamber.  He 
took  my  offered  hand,  but  looked  at  me  sadly  and 
gravely. 

"  Mr.  Gilbert,"  I  said,  "  I  must  speak  to  you 
in  private.  Let  us  step  into  this  room.  There 
is  no  one  here." 

"My  friend,"  said  Mr.  Gilbert,  "it  will  be 
much  better  to  avoid  discussing  this  subject.  It 
is  very  painful  to  both  of  us,  and  no  good  can 
come  from  talking  of  it." 

"  You  cannot  now  comprehend  what  it  is  I 
want  to  say  to  you,"  I  replied.  "  Come  in  here, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  you  will  be  very  glad  that 
you  listened  to  me." 

My  manner  was  so  earnest  and  impressive  that 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        31 

Mr.  Gilbert  was  constrained  to  follow  me,  and  we 
went  into  a  small  room  called  the  smoking-room, 
but  in  which  people  seldom  smoked,  and  closed 
the  door.  I  immediately  began  my  statement.  I 
told  my  old  friend  that  I  had  discovered,  by 
means  that  I  need  not  explain  at  present,  that  he 
had  considered  me  crazy,  and  that  now  the  most 
important  object  of  my  life  was  to  set  myself  right 
in  his  eyes.  I  thereupon  gave  him  the  whole 
history  of  my  invention,  and  explained  the  reason 
of  the  actions  that  had  appeared  to  him  those  of  a 
lunatic.  I  said  nothing  about  the  little  incident 
of  that  evening.  That  was  a  mere  accident,  and 
I  did  not  care  now  to  speak  of  it. 

Mr.  Gilbert  listened  to  me  very  attentively. 

"Your  wife  is  here?"  he  asked,  when  I  had 
finished. 

"  Yes,"  I  said;  "  and  she  will  corroborate  my 
story  in  every  item,  and  no  one  could  ever  sus 
pect  her  of  being  crazy.  I  will  go  and  bring  her 
to  you." 

In  a  few  minutes  my  wife  was  in  the  room,  had 
shaken  hands  with  Mr.  Gilbert,  and  had  been  told 
of  my  suspected  madness.  She  turned  pale,  but 
smiled. 

"  He  did  act  like  a  crazy  man,"  she  said,  "  but 
I  never  supposed  that  anybody  would  think  him 
one."  And  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

"And  now,  my  dear,"  said  I,  "perhaps  you 
will  tell  Mr.  Gilbert  how  I  did  all  this." 


32  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

And  then  she  told  him  the  story  that  I  had  told. 

Mr.  Gilbert  looked  from  the  one  to  the  other 
of  us  with  a  troubled  air. 

"  Of  course  I  do  not  doubt  either  of  you,  or 
rather  I  do  not  doubt  that  you  believe  what  you 
say.  All  would  be  right  if  I  could  bring  myself 
to  credit  that  such  a  force  as  that  you  speak  of 
can  possibly  exist." 

"  That  is  a  matter,"  said  I,  "  which  I  can  easily 
prove  to  you  by  actual  demonstration.  If  you 
can  wait  a  short  time,  until  my  wife  and  I  have 
had  something  to  eat  —  for  I  am  nearly  famished, 
and  I  am  sure  she  must  be  —  I  will  set  your  mind 
at  rest  upon  that  point." 

"I  will  wait  here,"  said  Mr.  Gilbert,  "and 
smoke  a  cigar.  Don't  hurry  yourselves.  I  shall 
be  glad  to  have  some  time  to  think  about  what 
you  have  told  me." 

When  we  had  finished  the  dinner,  which  had 
been  set  aside  for  us,  I  went  upstairs  and  got  my 
knapsack,  and  we  both  joined  Mr.  Gilbert  in  the 
smoking-room.  I  showed  him  the  little  machine, 
and  explained,  very  briefly,  the  principle  of  its 
construction.  I  did  not  give  any  practical  demon 
stration  of  its  action,  because  there  were  people 
walking  about  the  corridor  who  might  at  any 
moment  come  into  the  room;  but,  looking  out 
of  the  window,  I  saw  that  the  night  was  much 
clearer.  The  wind  had  dissipated  the  clouds, 
and  the  stars  were  shining  brightly. 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        33 

"  If  you  will  come  up  the  street  with  me,"  said 
I  to  Mr.  Gilbert,  "  I  will  show  you  how  this  thing 
works." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  want  to  see,"  he  answered. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,"  said  my  wife,  throwing 
a  shawl  over  her  head.  And  we  started  up  the 
street. 

When  we  were  outside  the  little  town  I  found 
the  starlight  was  quite  sufficient  for  my  purppse. 
The  white  roadway,  the  low  walls,  and  objects 
about  us,  could  easily  be  distinguished. 

"  Now,"  said  I  to  Mr.  Gilbert,  "  I  want  to  put 
this  knapsack  on  you,  and  let  you  see  how  it 
feels,  and  how  it  will  help  you  to  walk."  To 
this  he  assented  with  some  eagerness,  and  I 
strapped  it  firmly  on  him.  "  I  will  now  turn 
this  screw,"  said  I,  "  until  you  shall  become 
lighter  and  lighter." 

"  Be  very  careful  not  to  turn  it  too  much,"  said 
my  wife,  earnestly. 

"  Oh,  you  may  depend  on  me  for  that,"  said 
I,  turning  the  screw  very  gradually. 

Mr.  Gilbert  was  a  stout  man,  and  I  was  obliged 
to  give  the  screw  a  good  many  turns. 

"  There  seems  to  be  considerable  hoist  in  it," 
he  said,  directly.  And  then  I  put  my  arms  around 
him,  and  found  that  I  could  raise  him  from  the 
ground. 

"  Are  you  lifting  me?  "  he  exclaimed,  in  sur 
prise. 


34  A.    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  Yes ;  I  did  it  with  ease,"  I  answered. 

"  Upon  —  my — word!  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Gil 
bert. 

I  then  gave  the  screw  a  half-turn  more,  and 
told  him  to  walk  and  run.  He  started  off,  at 
first  slowly,  then  he  made  long  strides,  then  he 
began  to  run,  and  then  to  skip  and  jump.  It  had 
been  many  years  since  Mr.  Gilbert  had  skipped 
and  jumped.  No  one  was  in  sight,  and  he  was 
free  to  gambol  as  much  as  he  pleased.  "  Could 
you  give  it  another  turn?"  said  he,  bounding  up 
to  me.  "  I  want  to  try  that  wall."  I  put  on  a 
little  more  negative  gravity,  and  he  vaulted  over 
a  five-foot  wall  with  great  ease.  In  an  instant  he 
had  leaped  back  into  the  road,  and  in  two  bounds 
was  at  my  side.  "  I  came  down  as  light  as  a 
cat,"  he  said.  "  There  was  never  anything  like 
it."  And  away  he  went  up  the  road,  taking  steps 
at  least  eight  feet  long,  leaving  my  wife  and  me 
laughing  heartily  at  the  preternatural  agility  of 
our  stout  friend.  In  a  few  minutes  he  was  with 
us  again.  "  Take  it  off,"  he  said.  "  If  I  wear 
it  any  longer  I  shall  want  one  myself,  and  then  I 
shall  be  taken  for  a  crazy  man,  and  perhaps 
clapped  into  an  asylum." 

"  Now,"  said  I,  as  I  turned  back  the  screw  be 
fore  unstrapping  the  knapsack,  "  do  you  under 
stand  how  I  took  long  walks,  and  leaped  and 
jumped;  how  I  ran  uphill  and  downhill,  and 
how  the  little  donkey  drew  the  loaded  wagon?  " 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY        35 

"  I  understand  it  all,"  cried  he.  "I  take  back 
all  I  ever  said  or  thought  about  you,  my  friend." 

"And  Herbert  may  marry  Janet?"  cried  my  wife. 

"  May  marry  her!  "  cried  Mr.  Gilbert.  "  In 
deed,  he  shall  marry  her,  if  I  have  anything  to 
say  about  it!  My  poor  girl  has  been  drooping 
ever  since  I  told  her  it  could  not  be." 

My  wife  rushed  at  him,  but  whether  she  em 
braced  him  or  only  shook  his  hands  I  cannot  say ; 
for  I  had  the  knapsack  in  one  hand  and  was  rub 
bing  my  eyes  with  the  other. 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Gilbert, 
directly,  "  if  you  still  consider  it  to  your  interest 
to  keep  your  invention  a  secret,  I  wish  you  had 
never  made  it.  No  one  having  a  machine  like 
that  can  help  using  it,  and  it  is  often  quite  as  bad 
to  be  considered  a  maniac  as  to  be  one." 

"  My  friend,"  I  cried,  with  some  excitement, 
"  I  have  made  up  my  mind  on  this  subject.  The 
little  machine  in  this  knapsack,  which  is  the  only 
one  I  now  possess,  has  been  a  great  pleasure  to 
me.  But  I  now  know  it  has  also  been  of  the 
greatest  injury  indirectly  to  me  and  mine,  not  to 
mention  some  direct  inconvenience  and  danger, 
which  I  will  speak  of  another  time.  The  secret 
lies  with  us  three,  and  we  will  keep  it.  But  the 
invention  itself  is  too  full  of  temptation  and  danger 
for  any  of  us." 

As  I  said  this  I  held  the  knapsack  with  one 
hand  while  I  quickly  turned  the  screw  with  the 


36  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

other.  In  a  few  moments  it  was  high  above  my 
head,  while  I  with  difficulty  held  it  down  by  the 
straps.  "  Look!  "  I  cried.  And  then  I  released 
my  hold,  and  the  knapsack  shot  into  the  air  and 
disappeared  into  the  upper  gloom. 

I  was  about  to  make  a  remark,  but  had  no 
chance,  for  my  wife  threw  herself  upon  my  bosom, 
sobbing  with  joy. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad — so  glad!  "  she  said. 
"  And  you  will  never  make  another?  " 

"  Never  another!  "  I  answered. 

"  And  now  let  us  hurry  in  and  see  Janet,"  said 
my  wife. 

"You  don't  know  how  heavy  and  clumsy  I 
feel,"  said  Mr.  Gilbert,  striving  to  keep  up  with 
us  as  we  walked  back.  "  If  I  had  worn  that 
thing  much  longer,  I  should  never  have  been 
willing  to  take  it  off!  " 

Janet  had  retired,  but  my  wife  went  up  to  her 
room. 

"  I  think  she  has  felt  it  as  much  as  our  boy," 
she  said,  when  she  rejoined  me.  "  But  I  tell 
you,  my  dear,  I  left  a  very  happy  girl  in  that 
little  bedchamber  over  the  garden." 

And  there  were  three  very  happy  elderly  people 
talking  together  until  quite  late  that  evening.  "I 
shall  write  to  Herbert  to-night,"  I  said,  when  we 
separated,  "  and  tell  him  to  meet  us  all  in  Geneva. 
It  will  do  the  young  man  no  harm  if  we  inter 
rupt  his  studies  just  now." 


A    TALE   OF  NEGATIVE   GRAVITY         37 

"You  must  let  me  add  a  postscript  to  the 
letter,"  said  Mr.  Gilbert,  "  and  I  am  sure  it  will 
require  no  knapsack  with  a  screw  in  the  back  to 
bring  him  quickly  to  us." 

And  it  did  not. 

There  is  a  wonderful  pleasure  in  tripping  over 
the  earth  like  a  winged  Mercury,  and  in  feeling 
one's  self  relieved  of  much  of  that  attraction  of 
gravitation  which  drags  us  down  to  earth  and 
gradually  makes  the  movement  of  our  bodies  but 
weariness  and  labor.  But  this  pleasure  is  not  to 
be  compared,  I  think,  to  that  given  by  the  buoy 
ancy  and  lightness  of  two  young  and  loving  hearts, 
reunited  after  a  separation  which  they  had  sup 
posed  would  last  forever. 

What  became  of  the  basket  and  the  knapsack, 
or  whether  they  ever  met  in  upper  air,  I  do  not 
know.  If  they  but  float  away  and  stay  away  from 
ken  of  mortal  man,  I  shall  be  satisfied. 

And  whether  or  not  the  world  will  ever  know 
more  of  the  power  of  negative  gravity  depends 
entirely  upon  the  disposition  of  my  son  Herbert, 
when  —  after  a  good  many  years,  I  hope  —  he  shall 
open  the  packet  my  lawyers  have  in  keeping. 

[NOTE. —  It  would  be  quite  useless  for  any  one 
to  interview  my  wife  on  this  subject,  for  she  has 
entirely  forgotten  how  my  machine  was  made. 
And  as  for  Mr.  Gilbert,  he  never  knew.] 


ASAPH 


ASAPH 


BOUT  a  hundred  feet  back  from  the 
main  street  of  a  village  in  New  Jersey 
there  stood  a  very  good  white  house. 
Half-way  between  it  and  the  sidewalk 
was  a  large  chestnut-tree,  which  had  been  the 
pride  of  Mr.  Himes,  who  built  the  house,  and 
was  now  the  pride  of  Mrs.  Himes,  his  widow, 
who  lived  there. 

Under  the  tree  was  a  bench,  and  on  the  bench 
were  two  elderly  men,  both  smoking  pipes,  and 
each  one  of  them  leaning  forward  with  his  elbows 
on  his  knees.  One  of  these,  Thomas  Rooper  by 
name,  was  a  small  man  with  gray  side-whiskers, 
a  rather  thin  face,  and  very  good  clothes.  His 
pipe  was  a  meerschaum,  handsomely  colored, 
with  a  long  amber  tip.  He  had  bought  that  pipe 
while  on  a  visit  to  Philadelphia  during  the  great 
Centennial  Exposition ;  and  if  any  one  noticed  it 
and  happened  to  remark  what  a  fine  pipe  it  was, 
that  person  would  be  likely  to  receive  a  detailed 


42  A    CHOSEN  FE\V 

account  of  the  circumstances  of  its  purchase,  with 
an  appendix  relating  to  the  Main  Building,  the 
Art  Building,  the  Agricultural  Building,  and  many 
other  salient  points  of  the  great  Exposition  which 
commemorated  the  centennial  of  our  national 
independence. 

The  other  man,  Asaph  Scantle,  was  of  a  differ 
ent  type.  He  was  a  little  older  than  his  compan 
ion,  but  if  his  hair  were  gray,  it  did  not  show 
very  much,  as  his  rather  long  locks  were  of  a 
sandy  hue  and  his  full  face  was  clean  shaven,  at 
least  on  Wednesdays  and  Sundays.  He  was  tall, 
round-shouldered,  and  his  clothes  were  not  good, 
possessing  very  evident  claims  to  a  position  on 
the  retired  list.  His  pipe  consisted  of  a  common 
clay  bowl  with  a  long  reed  stem. 

For  some  minutes  the  two  men  continued  to 
puff  together  as  if  the^y  were  playing  a  duet  upon 
tobacco-pipes,  and  then  Asaph,  removing  his  reed 
from  his  lips,  remarked,  "  What  you  ought  to  do, 
Thomas,  is  to  marry  money." 

"There's  sense  in  that,"  replied  the  other; 
"  but  you  wasn't  the  first  to  think  of  it." 

Asaph,  who  knew  very  well  that  Mr.  Rooper 
never  allowed  any  one  to  suppose  that  he  received 
suggestions  from  without,  took  no  notice  of  the 
last  remark,  but  went  on  :  "  Lookin'  at  the  matter 
in  a  friendly  way,  it  seems  to  me  it  stands  to  reason 
that  when  the  shingles  on  a  man's  house  is  so  rot 
ten  that  the  rain  comes  through  into  every  room 


ASAPH  43 

on  the  top  floor,  and  when  the  plaster  on  the 
ceilin'  is  tumblin'  down  more  or  less  all  the  time, 
and  the  window-sashes  is  all  loose,  and  things 
generally  in  a  condition  that  he  can't  let  that 
house  without  spendin'  at  least  a  year's  rent  on  it 
to  git  it  into  decent  order,  and  when  a  man's  got 
to  the  time  of  life — " 

"There's  nothin'  the  matter  with  the  time  of 
life,"  said  Thomas  ;  "  that's  all  right." 

"  What  I  was  goin'  to  say  was,"  continued 
Asaph,  "  that  when  a  man  gits  to  the  time  of  life 
when  he  knows  what  it  is  to  be  comfortable  in  his 
mind  as  well  as  his  body  —  and  that  time  comes  to 
sensible  people  as  soon  as  they  git  fairly  growed 
up  —  he  don't  want  to  give  up  his  good  room  in 
the  tavern  and  all  the  privileges  of  the  house,  and 
go  to  live  on  his  own  property  and  have  the 
plaster  come  down  on  his  own  head  and  the  rain 
come  down  on  the  coverlet  of  his  own  bed." 

"  No,  he  don't,"  said  Thomas ;  "  and  what  is 
more,  he  isn't  goin'  to  do  it.  But  what  I  git 
from  the  rent  of  that  house  is  what  I  have  to  live 
on;  there's  no  gittin'  around  that  pint." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Asaph,  "  if  you  don't  marry 
money,  what  are  you  goin'  to  do?  You  can't  go 
back  to  your  old  business." 

"  I  never  had  but  one  business,"  said  Thomas. 
"  I  lived  with  my  folks  until  I  was  a  good  deal 
more  than  growed  up ;  and  when  the  war  broke 
out  I  went  as  sutler  to  the  rigiment  from  this 


44  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

place ;  and  all  the  money  I  made  I  put  into  my 
property  in  the  village  here.  That's  what  I've 
lived  on  ever  since.  There's  no  more  war,  so 
there's  no  more  sutlers,  except  away  out  West 
where  I  wouldn't  go ;  and  there  are  no  more 
folks,  for  they  are  all  dead;  and  if  what  Mrs. 
Mcjimsey  says  is  true,  there'll  be  no  more  ten 
ants  in  my  house  after  the  1st  of  next  November. 
For  when  the  Mcjimseys  go  on  account  of  want  of 
general  repairs,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  any 
body  else  will  come  there.  There's  nobody  in  this 
place  that  can  stand  as  much  as  theMcJimseys  can. " 

"  Consequently,"  said  Asaph,  deliberately  fill 
ing  his  pipe,  "  it  stands  to  reason  that  there  ain't 
nothin'  for  you  to  do  but  marry  money." 

Thomas  Rooper  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth 
and  sat  up  straight.  Gazing  steadfastly  at  his 
companion,  he  remarked,  "  If  you  think  that  is 
such  a  good  thing  to  do,  why  don't  you  do  it 
yourself?  There  can't  be  anybody  much  harder 
up  than  you  are." 

"The  law's  agin'  my  doin'  it,"  said  Asaph. 
"  A  man  can't  marry  his  sister." 

"  Are  you  thinkin'  of  Marietta  Himes?  "  asked 
Mr.  Rooper. 

"  That's  the  one  I'm  thinkin'  of,"  said  Asaph. 
"  If  you  can  think  of  anybody  better,  I'd  like  you 
to  mention  her." 

Mr.  Rooper  did  not  immediately  speak.  He 
presently  asked,  "  What  do  you  call  money?  " 


ASAPH  45 

"Well,"  said  Asaph,  with  a  little  hesitation, 
"  considerin'  the  circumstances,  I  should  say  that 
in  a  case  like  this  about  fifteen  hundred  a  year,  a 
first-rate  house  with  not  a  loose  shingle  on  it  nor 
a  crack  anywhere,  a  good  garden  and  an  orchard, 
two  cows,  a  piece  of  meadow-land  on  the  other 
side  of  the  creek,  and  all  the  clothes  a  woman 
need  have,  is  money." 

Thomas  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Clothes!  " 
he  said.  "  If  she  marries  she'll  go  out  of  black, 
and  then  she'll  have  to  have  new  ones,  and  lot's 
of  'em.  That  would  make  a  big  hole  in  her 
money,  Asaph." 

The  other  smiled.  "  I  always  knowed  you  was 
a  far-seein'  feller,  Thomas  ;  but  it  stands  to  reason 
that  Marietta's  got  a  lot  of  clothes  that  was  on 
hand  before  she  went  into  mournin',  and  she's 
not  the  kind  of  woman  to  waste  'em.  She'll  be 
twistin'  'em  about  and  makin'  'em  over  to  suit 
the  fashions,  and  it  won't  be  like  her  to  be  buyin' 
new  colored  goods  when  she's  got  plenty  of  'em 
already." 

There  was  now  another  pause  in  the  conver 
sation,  and  then  Mr.  Rooper  remarked,  "  Mrs. 
Himes  must  be  gettin'  on  pretty  well  in  years." 

"  She's  not  a  young  woman, "  said  Asaph;  "  but 
if  she  was  much  younger  she  wouldn't  have  you, 
and  if  she  was  much  older  you  wouldn't  have 
her.  So  it  strikes  me  she's  just  about  the  right 
pint." 


46  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  How  old  was  John  Himes  when  he  died?  " 
asked  Thomas. 

"  I  don't  exactly  know  that;  but  he  was  a  lot 
older  than  Marietta." 

Thomas  shook  his  head.  "  It  strikes  me," 
said  he,  "  that  John  Himes  had  a  hearty  constitu 
tion  and  hadn't  ought  to  died  as  soon  as  he  did. 
He  fell  away  a  good  deal  in  the  last  years  of  his 
life." 

"  And  considerin'  that  he  died  of  consumption, 
he  had  a  right  to  fall  away,"  said  Asaph.  "  If 
what  you  are  drivin'  at,  Thomas,  is  that  Marietta 
isn't  a  good  housekeeper  and  hasn't  the  right  sort 
of  notions  of  feedin',  look  at  me.  I've  lived  with 
Marietta  just  about  a  year,  and  in  that  time  I  have 
gained  forty-two  pounds.  Now,  of  course,  I  ain't 
unreasonable,  and  don't  mean  to  say  that  you 
would  gain  forty-two  pounds  in  a  year,  'cause  you 
ain't  got  the  frame  and  bone  to  put  it  on;  but  it 
wouldn't  surprise  me  a  bit  if  you  was  to  gain 
twenty,  or  even  twenty-five,  pounds  in  eighteen 
months,  anyway ;  and  more  than  that  you  ought 
not  to  ask,  Thomas,  considerin'  your  height  and 
general  build." 

"  Isn't  Marietta  Himes  a  good  deal  of  a  free 
thinker?  "  asked  Thomas. 

"  A  what?  "  cried  Asaph.  "  You  mean  an  in 
fidel?  " 

"  No,"  said  Thomas,  "  I  don't  charge  nobody 
with  nothin'  more  than  there's  reason  for ;  but 


ASAPH  47 

they  do  say  that  she  goes  sometimes  to  one  church 
and  sometimes  to  another,  and  that  if  there  was 
a  Catholic  church  in  this  village  she  would  go  to 
that.  And  who's  goin'  to  say  where  a  woman 
will  turn  up  when  she  don't  know  her  own  mind 
better  than  that?  " 

Asaph  colored  a  little.  ' '  The  place  where 
Marietta  will  turn  up,"  said  he,  warmly,  "is  on 
a  front  seat  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  and  if  the 
people  that  talk  about  her  will  mend  their  ways, 
they'll  see  that  I  am  right.  You  need  not  trouble 
yourself  about  that,  Thomas.  Marietta  Himes  is 
pious  to  the  heel." 

Mr.  Rooper  now  shifted  himself  a  little  on  the 
bench  and  crossed  one  leg  over  the  other.  "  Now 
look  here,  Asaph,"  he  said,  with  a  little  more  ani 
mation  than  he  had  yet  shown,  "  supposin'  all 
you  say  is  true,  have  you  got  any  reason  to  think 
that  Mrs.  Himes  ain't  satisfied  with  things  as  they 
are?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  said  Asaph.  "  And  I  don't 
mind  tellin'  you  that  the  thing  she's  least  satisfied 
with  is  me.  She  wants  a  man  in  the  house ;  that 
is  nateral.  She  wouldn't  be  Marietta  Himes 
if  she  didn't.  When  I  come  to  live  with  her  I 
thought  the  whole  business  was  settled ;  but  it 
isn't.  I  don't  suit  her.  I  don't  say  she's  lookin' 
for  another  man,  but  if  another  man  was  to  come 
along,  and  if  he  was  the  right  kind  of  a  man,  it's 
my  opinion  she's  ready  for  him.  I  wouldn't  say 


48  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

this  to  everybody,  but  I  say  it  to  you,  Thomas 
Rooper,  'cause  I  know  what  kind  of  a  man  you  are. " 

Mr.  Rooper  did  not  return  the  compliment. 
"  I  don't  wonder  your  sister  ain't  satisfied  with 
you,"  he  said,  "  for  you  go  ahead  of  all  the  lazy 
men  I  ever  saw  yet.  They  was  sayin'  down  at 
the  tavern  yesterday  —  only  yesterday — that  you 
could  do  less  work  in  more  time  than  anybody 
they  ever  saw  before." 

"There's  two  ways  of  workin',"  said  Asaph. 
"  Some  people  work  with  their  hands  and  some 
with  their  heads." 

Thomas  grimly  smiled.  "  It  strikes  me,"  said 
he,  ' '  that  the  most  head-work  you  do  is  with  your 
jaws." 

Asaph  was  not  the  man  to  take  offence  readily, 
especially  when  he  considered  it  against  his  inter 
est  to  do  so,  and  he  showed  no  resentment  at  this 
remark.  "  'Tain't  so  much  my  not  makin'  my 
self  more  generally  useful,"  he  said,  "  that  Mari 
etta  objects  to ;  though,  of  course,  it  could  not  be 
expected  that  a  man  that  hasn't  got  any  interest 
in  property  would  keep  workin'  at  it  like  a  man 
that  has  got  an  interest  in  it,  such  as  Marietta's 
husband  would  have ;  but  it's  my  general  appear 
ance  that  she  don't  like.  She's  told  me  more  than 
once  she  didn't  so  much  mind  my  bein'  lazy  as 
lookin'  lazy." 

"  I  don't  wonder  she  thinks  that  way,"  said 
Thomas.  "  But  look  here,  Asaph,  do  you  sup- 


ASAI'H  49 

pose  that  if  Marietta  Himes  was  to  marry  a  man, 
he  would  really  come  into  her  property?  " 

"  There  ain't  nobody  that  knows  my  sister  bet 
ter  than  I  know  her,  and  I  can  say,  without  any 
fear  of  bein'  contradicted,  that  when  she  gives 
herself  to  a  man  the  good-will  and  fixtures  will  be 
included." 

Thomas  Rooper  now  leaned  forward  with  his 
elbows  on  his  knees  without  smoking,  and  Asaph 
Scantle  leaned  forward  with  his  elbows  on  his 
knees  without  smoking.  And  thus  they  remained, 
saying  nothing  to  each  other,  for  the  space  of  some 
ten  minutes. 

Asaph  was  a  man  who  truly  used  his  head  a 
great  deal  more  than  he  used  his  hands.  He 
had  always  been  a  shiftless  fellow,  but  he  was  no 
fool,  and  this  his  sister  found  out  soon  after  she 
asked  him  to  come  and  make  his  home  with  her. 
She  had  not  done  this  because  she  wanted  a  man 
in  the  house,  for  she  had  lived  two  or  three  years 
without  that  convenience  and  had  not  felt  the 
need  of  it.  But  she  heard  that  Asaph  was  in 
very  uncomfortable  circumstances,  and  she  had 
sent  for  him  solely  for  his  own  good.  The  ar 
rangement  proved  to  be  a  very  good  one  for  her 
brother,  but  not  a  good  one  for  her.  She  had 
always  known  that  Asaph's  head  was  his  main 
dependence,  but  she  was  just  beginning  to  dis 
cover  that  he  liked  to  use  his  head  so  that  other 
people's  hands  should  work  for  him. 


So  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  There  ain't  nobody  comin'  to  see  your  sister, 
is  there?  "  asked  Thomas,  suddenly. 

"Not  a  livin'  soul,"  said  Asaph,  "except 
women,  married  folk,  and  children.  But  it  has 
always  surprised  me  that  nobody  did  come ;  but 
just  at  this  minute  the  field's  clear  and  the  gate's 
open." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Rooper,  "  I'll  think  about  it." 

"  That's  right,"  said  Asaph,  rubbing  his  knees 
with  his  hands.  "That's  right.  But  now  tell 
me,  Thomas  Rooper,  supposin'  you  get  Marietta, 
what  are  you  goin'  to  do  for  me?  " 

"For  you?"  exclaimed  the  other.  "What 
have  you  got  to  do  with  it?  " 

"A  good  deal,"  said  Asaph.  "If  you  get 
Marietta  with  her  fifteen  hundred  a  year  —  and  it 
wouldn't  surprise  me  if  it  was  eighteen  hundred 
— and  her  house  and  her  garden  and  her  cattle 
and  her  field  and  her  furniture,  with  not  a  leg 
loose  nor  a  scratch,  you  will  get  her  because  I 
proposed  her  to  you,  and  because  I  backed  you 
up  afterward.  And  now,  then,  I  want  to  know 
what  you  are  goin'  to  do  for  me?  " 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  asked  Thomas. 

"  The  first  thing  I  want,"  said  Asaph,  "  is  a 
suit  of  clothes.  These  clothes  is  disgraceful." 

"  You  are  right  there,"  said  Mr.  Rooper.  "  I 
wonder  your  sister  lets  you  come  around  in  front 
of  the  house.  But  what  do  you  mean  by  clothes 
—  winter  clothes  or  summer  clothes?  " 


ASAPH  51 

"  Winter,"  said  Asaph,  without  hesitation.  "  I 
don't  count  summer  clothes.  And  when  I  say  a 
suit  of  clothes,  I  mean  shoes  and  hat  and  under 
clothes." 

Mr.  Rooper  gave  a  sniff.  "  I  wonder  you 
don't  say  overcoat,"  he  remarked. 

"  I  do  say  overcoat,"  replied  Asaph.  "  A  suit 
of  winter  clothes  is  a  suit  of  clothes  that  you  can  go 
out  into  the  weather  in  without  missin'  nothin'." 

Mr.  Rooper  smiled  sarcastically.  "  Is  there 
anything  else  you  want?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Asaph,  decidedly;  "there  is.  I 
want  a  umbrella." 

"  Cotton  or  silk?  " 

Asaph  hesitated.  He  had  never  had  a  silk 
umbrella  in  his  hand  in  his  life.  He  was  afraid 
to  strike  too  high,  and  he  answered,  "  I  want  a 
good  stout  gingham." 

Mr.  Rooper  nodded  his  head.  "  Very  good," 
he  said.  "  And  is  that  all?  " 

"  No,"  said  Asaph,  "  it  ain't  all.  There  is  one 
more  thing  I  want,  and  that  is  a  dictionary." 

The  other  man  rose  to  his  feet.  "  Upon  my 
word,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  never  before  saw  a  man 
that  would  sell  his  sister  for  a  dictionary!  And 
what  you  want  with  a  dictionary  is  past  my  con- 
ceivin'." 

"  Well,  it  ain't  past  mine,"  said  Asaph.  "  For 
more  than  ten  years  I  have  wanted  a  dictionary. 
If  I  had  a  dictionary  I  could  make  use  of  my  head 


52  A    CHOSEN  FEU' 

in  a  way  that  I  can't  now.  There  is  books  in  this 
house,  but  amongst  'em  there  is  no  dictionary.  If 
there  had  been  one  I'd  been  a  different  man  by 
this  time  from  what  I  am  now,  and  like  as  not 
Marietta  wouldn't  have  wanted  any  other  man  in 
the  house  but  me." 

Mr.  Rooper  stood  looking  upon  the  ground; 
and  Asaph,  who  had  also  arisen,  waited  for  him 
to  speak.  "You  are  a  graspin'  man,  Asaph," 
said  Thomas.  "  But  there  is  another  thing  I'd 
like  to  know :  if  I  give  you  them  clothes,  you 
don't  want  them  before  she's  married?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  Asaph.  "  If  I  come  to  the 
weddin',  I  can't  wear  these  things.  I  have  got  to 
have  them  first." 

Mr.  Rooper  gave  his  head  a  little  twist. 
' '  There's  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the 
lip,"  said  he. 

"Yes,"  said  Asaph;  "and  there's  different 
cups  and  different  lips.  But  what's  more,  if  I 
was  to  be  best  man — which  would  be  nateral, 
considerin'  I'm  your  friend  and  her  brother  —  you 
wouldn't  want  me  standin'  up  in  this  rig.  And 
that's  puttin'  it  in  your  own  point  of  view, 
Thomas." 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  the  other,  "  that  I  could 
get  a  best  man  that  would  furnish  his  own 
clothes ;  but  we  will  see  about  that.  There's 
another  thing,  Asaph,"  he  said,  abruptly;  "  what 
are  Mrs.  Himes's  views  concernin'  pipes?  " 


ASAPH  53 

This  question  startled  and  frightened  Asaph. 
He  knew  that  his  sister  could  not  abide  the  smell 
of  tobacco  and  that  Mr.  Rooper  was  an  inveterate 
smoker. 

"That  depends,"  said  he,  "on  the  kind  of 
tobacco.  I  don't  mind  sayin'  that  Marietta  isn't 
partial  to  the  kind  of  tobacco  I  smoke.  But  I 
ain't  a  moneyed  man  and  I  can't  afford  to  buy 
nothin'  but  cheap  stuff.  But  when  it  comes  to  a 
meerschaum  pipe  and  the  very  finest  Virginia 
or  North  Carolina  smoking-tobacco,  such  as  a 
moneyed  man  would  be  likely  to  use — " 

At  this  moment  there  came  from  the  house  the 
sound  of  a  woman's  voice,  not  loud,  but  clear  and 
distinct,  and  it  said  "  Asaph." 

This  word  sent  through  Mr.  Rooper  a  gentle 
thrill  such  as  he  did  not  remember  ever  having 
felt  before.  There  seemed  to  be  in  it  a  sugges 
tion,  a  sort  of  prophecy,  of  what  appeared  to  him 
as  an  undefined  and  chaotic  bliss.  He  was  not  a 
fanciful  man,  but  he  could  not  help  imagining 
himself  standing  alone  under  that  chestnut-tree 
and  that  voice  calling  "  Thomas." 

Upon  Asaph  the  effect  was  different.  The  in 
terruption  was  an  agreeable  one  in  one  way,  be 
cause  it  cut  short  his  attempted  explanation  of  the 
tobacco  question ;  but  in  another  way  he  knew 
that  it  meant  the  swinging  of  an  axe,  and  that 
was  not  pleasant. 

Mr.   Rooper  walked  back  to  the  tavern  in  a 


54  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

cogitative  state  of  mind.  "  That  Asaph  Scantle, " 
he  said  to  himself,  "  has  got  a  head-piece,  there's 
no  denying  it.  If  it  had  not  been  for  him  I  do 
not  believe  I  should  have  thought  of  his  sister ; 
at  least  not  until  the  Mcjimseys  had  left  my 
house,  and  then  it  might  have  been  too  late." 

Marietta  Himes  was  a  woman  with  a  gentle 
voice  and  an  appearance  and  demeanor  indicative 
of  a  general  softness  of  disposition ;  but  beneath 
this  mild  exterior  there  was  a  great  deal  of  firm 
ness  of  purpose.  Asaph  had  not  seen  very  much 
of  his  sister  since  she  had  grown  up  and  married  ; 
and  when  he  came  to  live  with  her  he  thought 
that  he  was  going  to  have  things  pretty  much  his 
own  way.  But  it  was  not  long  before  he  entirely 
changed  his  mind. 

Mrs.  Himes  was  of  moderate  height,  pleasant 
countenance,  and  a  figure  inclined  to  plumpness. 
Her  dark  hair,  in  which  there  was  not  a  line  of 
gray,  was  brushed  down  smoothly  on  each  side 
of  her  face,  and  her  dress,  while  plain,  was  ex 
tremely  neat.  In  fact,  everything  in  the  house 
and  on  the  place  was  extremely  neat,  except 
Asaph. 

She  was  in  the  bright  little  dining-room  which 
looked  out  on  the  flower-garden,  preparing  the 
table  for  supper,  placing  every  plate,  dish,  glass, 
and  cup  with  as  much  care  and  exactness  as  if  a 
civil  engineer  had  drawn  a  plan  on  the  table-cloth 
with  places  marked  for  the  position  of  each  article. 


ASAPH  55 

As  she  finished  her  work  by  placing  a  chair  on 
each  side  of  the  table,  a  quiet  smile,  the  result  of 
a  train  of  thought  in  which  she  had  been  indulg 
ing  for  the  past  half-hour,  stole  over  her  face. 
She  passed  through  the  kitchen,  with  a  glance  at 
the  stove  to  see  if  the  tea-kettle  had  begun  to 
boil ;  and  going  out  of  the  back  door,  she  walked 
over  to  the  shed  where  her  brother  was  splitting 
kindling-wood.  . 

"  Asaph,"  said  Mrs.  Himes,  "  if  I  were  to  give 
you  a  good  suit  of  clothes,  would  you  promise 
me  that  you  would  never  smoke  when  wearing 
them?  " 

Her  brother  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 
"  Clothes!  "  he  repeated. 

"  Mr.  Himes  was  about  your  size,"  said  his 
sister,  "  and  he  left  a  good  many  clothes,  which 
are  most  of  them  very  good  and  carefully  packed 
away,  so  that  I  am  sure  there  is  not  a  moth-hole 
in  any  one  of  them.  I  have  several  times  thought, 
Asaph,  that  I  might  give  you  some  of  his  clothes  ; 
but  it  did  seem  to  me  a  desecration  to  have  the 
clothes  of  such  a  man,  who  was  so  particular  and 
nice,  filled  and  saturated  with  horrible  tobacco- 
smoke,  which  he  detested.  But  now  you  are 
getting  to  be  so  awful  shabby,  I  do  not  see  how 
I  can  stand  it  any  longer.  But  one  thing  I  will 
not  do  —  I  will  not  have  Mr.  Himes 's  clothes 
smelling  of  tobacco  as  yours  do;  and  not  only 
your  own  tobacco,  but  Mr.  Rooper's." 


56  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"I  think,"  said  Asaph,  "that  you  are  not 
exactly  right  just  there.  What  you  smell  about 
me  is  my  smoke.  Thomas  Rooper  never  uses 
anything  but  the  finest-scented  and  delicatest 
brands.  I  think  that  if  you  come  to  get  used  to 
his  tobacco-smoke  you  would  like  it.  But  as  to 
my  takin'  off  my  clothes  and  puttin'  on  a  different 
suit  every  time  I  want  to  light  my  pipe,  that's 
pretty  hard  lines,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  deal  easier  to  give  up  the 
pipe,"  said  his  sister. 

"  I  will  do  that,"  said  Asaph,  "  when  you 
give  up  tea.  But  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
there's  no  use  of  either  of  us  a-tryin'  to  change 
our  comfortable  habits  at  our  time  of  life." 

"  I  kept  on  hoping,"  said  Mrs.  Himes,  "  that 
you  would  feel  yourself  that  you  were  not  fit  to 
be  seen  by  decent  people,  and  that  you  would  go 
to  work  and  earn  at  least  enough  money  to  buy 
yourself  some  clothes.  But  as  you  don't  seem 
inclined  to  do  that,  I  thought  I  would  make  you 
this  offer.  But  you  must  understand  that  I  will 
not  have  you  smoke  in  Mr.  Himes's  clothes." 

Asaph  stood  thinking,  the  head  of  his  axe  rest 
ing  upon  the  ground,  a  position  which  suited  him. 
He  was  in  a  little  perplexity.  Marietta's  proposi 
tion  seemed  to  interfere  somewhat  with  the  one  he 
had  made  to  Thomas  Rooper.  Here  was  a  state 
of  affairs  which  required  most  careful  considera 
tion.  "  I've  been  arrangin'  about  some  clothes," 


ASAPff  57 

he  said,  presently;  "for  I  know  very  well  I 
need  'em ;  but  I  don't  know  just  yet  how  it  will 
turn  out." 

"  I  hope,  Asaph,"  said  Marietta,  quickly,  "  that 
you  are  not  thinking  of  going  into  debt  for  cloth 
ing,  and  I  know  that  you  haven't  been  working 
to  earn  money.  What  arrangements  have  you 
been  making?  " 

"  That's  my  private  affair,"  said  Asaph,  "  but 
there's  no  debt  in  it.  It  is  all  fair  and  square  — 
cash  down,  so  to  speak;  though,  of  course,  it's 
not  cash,  but  work.  But,  as  I  said  before,  that 
isn't  settled." 

"  I  am  afraid,  Asaph,"  said  his  sister,  "  that  if 
you  have  to  do  the  work  first  you  will  never  get 
the  clothes,  and  so  you  might  as  well  come  back 
to  my  offer." 

Asaph  came  back  to  it  and  thought  about  it 
very  earnestly.  If  by  any  chance  he  could  get 
two  suits  of  clothes,  he  would  then  feel  that  he 
had  a  head  worth  having.  "  What  would  you 
say,"  he  said,  presently,  "  if  when  I  wanted  to 
smoke  I  was  to  put  on  a  long  duster  —  I  guess 
Mr.  Himes  had  dusters — and  a  nightcap  and 
rubbers?  I'd  agree  to  hang  the  duster  and  the 
cap  in  the  shed  here  and  never  smoke  without 
putting  'em  on."  There  was  a  deep  purpose  in 
this  proposition,  for,  enveloped  in  the  long  duster, 
he  might  sit  with  Thomas  Rooper  under  the  chest 
nut-tree  and  smoke  and  talk  and  plan  as  long  as 


58  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

he  pleased,  and  his  companion  would  not  know 
that  he  did  not  need  a  new  suit  of  clothes. 

"Nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  Himes ;  "you  must 
make  up  your  mind  to  act  perfectly  fairly,  Asaph, 
or  else  say  you  will  not  accept  my  offer.  But  if 
you  don't  accept  it,  I  can't  see  how  you  can  keep 
on  living  with  me." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  clothes,  Marietta?" 
he  asked. 

"  Well,  I  mean  a  complete  suit,  of  course," 
said  she. 

"  Winter  or  summer?  " 

"  I  hadn't  thought  of  that,"  Mrs.  Himes  re 
plied;  "  but  that  can  be  as  you  choose." 

"  Overcoat?  "  asked  Asaph. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  and  cane  and  umbrella,  if 
you  like,  and  pocket-handkerchiefs,  too.  I  will 
fit  you  out  completely,  and  shall  be  glad  to  have 
you  looking  like  a  decent  man." 

At  the  mention  of  the  umbrella  another  line  of 
perplexity  showed  itself  upon  Asaph's  brow.  The 
idea  came  to  him  that  if  she  would  add  a  diction 
ary  he  would  strike  a  bargain.  Thomas  Rooper 
was  certainly  a  very  undecided  and  uncertain  sort 
of  man.  But  then  there  came  up  the  thought  of 
his  pipe,  and  he  was  all  at  sea  again.  Giving  up 
smoking  was  almost  the  same  as  giving  up  eating. 
"  Marietta,"  said  he,  "  I  will  think  about  this." 

"Very  well,"  she  answered;  "but  it's  my 
opinion,  Asaph,  that  you  ought  not  to  take  more 


ASAPH  59 

than  one  minute  to  think  about  it.  However,  I 
will  give  you  until  to-morrow  morning,  and  then 
if  you  decide  that  you  don't  care  to  look  like  a 
respectable  citizen,  I  must  have  some  further  talk 
with  you  about  our  future  arrangements." 

"  Make  it  to-morrow  night,"  said  Asaph.  And 
his  sister  consented. 

The  next  day  Asaph  was  unusually  brisk  and 
active ;  and  very  soon  after  breakfast  he  walked 
over  to  the  village  tavern  to  see  Mr.  Rooper. 

"  Hello!  "  exclaimed  that  individual,  surprised 
at  his  visitor's  early  appearance  at  the  business 
centre  of  the  village.  "  What's  started  you  out? 
Have  you  come  after  them  clothes?  " 

A  happy  thought  struck  Asaph.  He  had  made 
this  visit  with  the  intention  of  feeling  his  way  to 
ward  some  decision  on  the  important  subject  of 
his  sister's  proposition,  and  here  a  way  seemed 
to  be  opened  to  him.  "  Thomas,"  said  he,  taking 
his  friend  aside,  "  I  am  in  an  awful  fix.  Marietta 
can't  stand  my  clothes  any  longer.  If  she  can't 
stand  them  she  can't  stand  me,  and  when  it  comes 
to  that,  you  can  see  for  yourself  that  I  can't  help 
you." 

A  shade  settled  upon  Mr.  Rooper's  face.  Dur 
ing  the  past  evening  he  had  been  thinking  and 
puffing,  and  puffing  and  thinking,  until  everybody 
else  in  the  tavern  had  gone  to  bed;  and  he  had 
finally  made  up  his  mind  that,  if  he  could  do  it, 
he  would  marry  Marietta  Himes.  He  had  never 


60  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

been  very  intimate  with  her  or  her  husband,  but 
he  had  been  to  meals  in  the  house,  and  he  re 
membered  the  fragrant  coffee  and  the  light,  puffy, 
well-baked  rolls  made  by  Marietta's  own  hands ; 
and  he  thought  of  the  many  differences  between 
living  in  that  very  good  house  with  that  gentle, 
pleasant-voiced  lady  and  his  present  life  in  the 
village  tavern. 

And  so,  having  determined  that  without  delay 
he  would,  with  the  advice  and  assistance  of  Asaph, 
begin  his  courtship,  it  was  natural  that  he  should 
feel  a  shock  of  discouragement  when  he  heard 
Asaph's  announcement  that  his  sister  could  not 
endure  him  in  the  house  any  longer.  To  attack 
that  house  and  its  owner  without  the  friendly 
offices  upon  which  he  depended  was  an  undertak 
ing  for  which  he  was  not  at  all  prepared. 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  her,"  he  said,  sharply — 
"  not  a  bit.  But  this  puts  a  mighty  different  face 
on  the  thing  what  we  talked  about  yesterday." 

"  It  needn't,"  said  Asaph,  quietly.  "  The 
clothes  you  was  goin'  to  give  me  wouldn't  cost  a 
cent  more  to-day  than  they  would  in  a  couple  of 
months,  say;  and  when  I've  got  'em  on  Marietta 
will  be  glad  to  have  me  around.  Everything  can 
go  on  just  as  we  bargained  for." 

Thomas  shook  his  head.  "  That  would  be  a 
mighty  resky  piece  of  business,"  he  said.  "  You 
would  be  all  right,  but  that's  not  sayin'  that  I 
would;  for  it  strikes  me  that  your  sister  is 


ASAPH  6 1 

about  as  much  a  bird  in  the  bush  as  any  flyin' 
critter." 

Asaph  smiled.  "If  the  bush  was  in  the  mid 
dle  of  a  field,"  said  he,  "  and  there  was  only  one 
boy  after  the  bird,  it  would  be  a  pretty  tough  job. 
But  if  the  bush  is  in  the  corner  of  two  high  walls, 
and  there's  two  boys,  and  one  of  'em's  got  a  fish 
net  what  he  can  throw  clean  over  the  bush,  why, 
then  the  chances  is  a  good  deal  better.  But 
droppin'  figgers,  Thomas,  and  speakin'  plain  and 
straightforward,  as  I  always  do  — " 

"About  things  you  want  to  git,"  interrupted 
Thomas. 

" — about  everything,"  resumed  Asaph.  "  I'll 
just  tell  you  this :  if  I  don't  git  decent  clothes 
now  to-day,  or  perhaps  to-morrow,  I  have  got  to 
travel  out  of  Marietta's  house.  I  can  do  it  and 
she  knows  it.  I  can  go  back  to  Drummondville 
and  git  my  board  for  keepin'  books  in  the  store, 
and  nobody  there  cares  what  sort  of  clothes  I 
wear.  But  when  that  happens,  your  chance  of 
gittin'  Marietta  goes  up  higher  than  a  kite." 

To  the  mind  of  Mr.  Rooper  this  was  most  con 
clusive  reasoning;  but  he  would  not  admit  it  and 
he  did  not  like  it.  "  Why  don't  your  sister  give 
you  clothes?  "  he  said.  "  Old  Himes  must  have 
left  some." 

A  thin  chill  like  a  needleful  of  frozen  thread  ran 
down  Asaph's  back.  "  Mr.  Himes's  clothes!  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  What  in  the  world  are  you  talkin' 


62  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

about,  Thomas  Rooper?  'Tain't  likely  he  had 
many,  'cept  what  he  was  buried  in  ;  and  what's  left, 
if  there  is  any,  Marietta  would  no  more  think  of 
givin'  away  than  she  would  of  hangin'  up  his 
funeral  wreath  for  the  canary-bird  to  perch  on. 
There's  a  room  up  in  the  garret  where  she  keeps 
his  special  things — for  she's  awful  particular  — 
and  if  there  is  any  of  his  clothes  up  there  I  expect 
she's  got  'em  framed." 

"  If  she  thinks  as  much  of  him  as  that,"  mut 
tered  Mr.  Rooper. 

' '  Now  don't  git  any  sech  ideas  as  them  into  your 
head,  Thomas,"  said  Asaph,  quickly.  "  Marietta 
ain't  a  woman  to  rake  up  the  past,  and  you  never 
need  be  afraid  of  her  rakin'  up  Mr.  Himes.  All 
of  the  premises  will  be  hern  and  yourn  except  that 
room  in  the  garret,  and  it  ain't  likely  she'll  ever 
ask  you  to  go  in  there." 

"  The  Lord  knows  I  don't  want  to! "  ejaculated 
Mr.  Rooper. 

The  two  men  walked  slowly  to  the  end  of  a 
line  of  well-used,  or,  rather,  badly  used,  wooden 
arm-chairs  which  stood  upon  the  tavern  piazza, 
and  seated  themselves.  Mr.  Rooper's  mind  was 
in  a  highly  perturbed  condition.  If  he  accepted 
Asaph's  present  proposition  he  would  have  to 
make  a  considerable  outlay  with  a  very  shadowy 
prospect  of  return. 

"  If  you  haven't  got  the  ready  money  for  the 
clothes,"  said  Asaph,  after  having  given  his  com- 


ASAPH  63 

panion  some  minutes  for  silent  consideration, 
"there  ain't  a  man  in  this  village  what  they 
would  trust  sooner  at  the  store  for  clothes,"  and 
then  after  a  pause  he  added,  "  or  books,  which, 
of  course,  they  can  order  from  town." 

At  this  Mr.  Rooper  simply  shrugged  his  shoul 
ders.  The  question  of  ready  money  or  credit  did 
not  trouble  him. 

At  this  moment  a  man  in  a  low  phaeton,  drawn 
by  a  stout  gray  horse,  passed  the  tavern. 

"  Who's  that?  "  asked  Asaph,  who  knew  every 
body  in  the  village. 

"  That's  Doctor  Wicker,"  said  Thomas.  "  He 
Jives  over  at  Timberley.  He  'tended  John  Himes 
in  his  last  sickness." 

"  He  don't  practise  here,  does  he?  "  said  Asaph. 
"  I  never  see  him." 

"  No;  but  he  was  called  in  to  consult."  And 
then  the  speaker  dropped  again  into  cogitation. 

After  a  few  minutes  Asaph  rose.  He  knew  that 
Thomas  Rooper  had  a  slow-working  mind,  and 
thought  it  would  be  well  to  leave  him  to  himself 
for  a  while.  "  I'll  go  home,"  said  he,  "and  'tend 
to  my  chores,  and  by  the  time  you  feel  likecomin' 
up  and  takin'  a  smoke  with  me  under  the  chestnut- 
tree,  I  reckon  you  will  have  made  up  your  mind, 
and  we'll  settle  this  thing.  Fer  if  I  have  got  to  go 
back  to  Drummondville,  I  s'pose  I'll  have  to  pack 
up  this  afternoon." 

"  If  you'd  say  pack  off  instead  of  pack  up,"  re- 


64  A    CHOSEN  FEU' 

marked  the  other,  "  you'd  come  nearer  the  facts, 
considerin'  the  amount  of  your  personal  property. 
But  I'll  be  up  there  in  an  hour  or  two." 

When  Asaph  came  within  sight  of  his  sister's 
house  he  was  amazed  to  see  a  phaeton  and  a  gray 
horse  standing  in  front  of  the  gate.  From  this  it 
was  easy  to  infer  that  the  doctor  was  in  the  house. 
What  on  earth  could  have  happened?  Was  any 
thing  the  matter  with  Marietta?  And  if  so,  why 
did  she  send  for  a  physician  who  lived  at  a  dis 
tance,  instead  of  Doctor  Mcllvaine,  the  village 
doctor?  In  a  very  anxious  state  of  mind  Asaph 
reached  the  gate,  and  irresolutely  went  into  the 
yard.  His  impulse  was  to  go  to  the  house  and 
see  what  had  happened;  but  he  hesitated.  He 
felt  that  Marietta  might  object  to  having  a  com 
parative  stranger  know  that  such  an  exceedingly 
shabby  fellow  was  her  brother.  And,  besides,  his 
sister  could  not  have  been  overtaken  by  any  sud 
den  illness.  She  had  always  appeared  perfectly 
well,  and  there  would  have  been  no  time  during 
his  brief  absence  from  the  house  to  send  over  to 
Timberley  for  a  doctor. 

So  he  sat  down  under  the  chestnut-tree  to  con 
sider  this  strange  condition  of  affairs.  ' '  Whatever 
it  is,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  it's  nothin'  suddint, 
and  it's  bound  to  be  chronic,  and  that'll  skeer 
Thomas.  I  wish  I  hadn't  asked  him  to  come  up 
here.  The  best  thing  for  me  to  do  will  be  to  pre 
tend  that  I  have  been  sent  to  git  somethin'  at  the 


ASAPH  65 

store,  and  go  straight  back  and  keep  him  from 
comin'  up." 

But  Asaph  was  a  good  deal  quicker  to  think 
than  to  move,  and  he  still  sat  with  brows  wrinkled 
and  mind  beset  by  doubts.  For  a  moment  he 
thought  that  it  might  be  well  to  accept  Marietta's 
proposition  and  let  Thomas  go ;  but  then  he  re 
membered  the  conditions,  and  he  shut  his  mental 
eyes  at  the  prospect. 

At  that  moment  the  gate  opened  and  in  walked 
Thomas  Rooper.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  and 
had  come  to  say  so ;  but  the  sight  of  the  phaeton 
and  gray  horse  caused  him  to  postpone  his  in 
tended  announcement.  "  What's  Doctor  Wicker 
doin'  here?  "  he  asked,  abruptly. 

"  Dunno,"  said  Asaph,  as  carelessly  as  he  could 
speak.  "  I  don't  meddle  with  household  matters 
of  that  kind.  I  expect  it's  somethin'  the  matter 
with  that  gal  Betsey,  that  Marietta  hires  to  help 
her.  She's  always  wrong  some  way  or  other  so 
that  she  can't  do  her  own  proper  work,  which  I 
know,  havin'  to  do  a  good  deal  of  it  myself.  I 
expect  it's  rickets,  like  as  not.  Gals  do  have  that 
sort  of  thing,  don't  they?  " 

"Never  had  anything  to  do  with  sick  gals," 
said  Thomas,  "  or  sick  people  of  any  sort,  and 
don't  want  to.  But  it  must  be  somethin'  pretty 
deep-seated  for  your  sister  to  send  all  the  way  to 
Timberley  for  a  doctor." 

Asaph  knew  very  well  that  Mrs.  Himes  was 


66  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

too  economical  a  person  to  think  of  doing  such  a 
thing  as  that,  and  he  knew  also  that  Betsey  was 
as  good  a  specimen  of  rustic  health  as  could  be 
found  in  the  county.  And  therefore  his  com 
panion's  statement  that  he  wanted  to  have  nothing 
to  do  with  sick  people  had  for  him  a  saddening 
import. 

"  I  settled  that  business  of  yourn,"  said  Mr. 
Rooper,  ' '  pretty  soon  after  you  left  me.  I  thought 
I  might  as  well  come  straight  around  and  tell  you 
about  it.  I'll  make  you  a  fair  and  square  offer. 
I'll  give  you  them  clothes,  though  it  strikes  me 
that  winter  goods  will  be  pretty  heavy  for  this  time 
of  year ;  but  it  will  be  on  this  condition :  if  I  don't 
get  Marietta,  you  have  got  to  give  'em  back." 

Asaph  smiled. 

"  I  know  what  you  are  grinnin'  at,"  said 
Thomas;  "but  you  needn't  think  that  you  are 
goin'  to  have  the  wearin'  of  them  clothes  for  two 
or  three  months  and  then  give  'em  back.  I  don't 
go  in  for  any  long  courtships.  What  I  do  in  that 
line  will  be  short  and  sharp." 

"How  short?  "  asked  Asaph. 

"Well,  this  is  Thursday,"  replied  the  other, 
"  and  I  calculate  to  ask  her  on  Monday." 

Asaph  looked  at  his  companion  in  amazement. 
"  By  George!"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  won't  work. 
Why,  it  took  Marietta  more'n  five  days  to  make 
up  her  mind  whether  she  would  have  the  chicken- 
house  painted  green  or  red,  and  you  can't  expect 


ASAPH  67 

her  to  be  quicker  than  that  in  takin'  a  new  hus 
band.  She'd  say  No  just  as  certain  as  she  would 
now  if  you  was  to  go  in  and  ask  her  right  before 
the  doctor  and  Betsey.  And  I'll  just  tell  you 
plain  that  it  wouldn't  pay  me  to  do  all  the  hustlin' 
around  and  talkin'  and  argyin'  and  recommendin' 
that  I'd  have  to  do  just  for  the  pleasure  of  wearhv 
a  suit  of  warm  clothes  for  four  July  days.  I  tell 
you  what  it  is,  it  won't  do  to  spring  that  sort  of 
thing  on  a  woman,  especially  when  she's  what  you 
might  call  a  trained  widder.  You  got  to  give 
'em  time  to  think  over  the  matter  and  to  look  up 
your  references.  There's  no  use  talkin'  about  it ; 
you  must  give  'em  time,  especially  when  the  offer 
comes  from  a  person  that  nobody  but  me  has  ever 
thought  of  as  a  marryin'  man." 

"  Humph!  "  said  Thomas.  "  That's  all  you 
know  about  it." 

"  Facts  is  facts,  and  you  can't  git  around  'em. 
There  isn't  a  woman  in  this  village  what  wouldn't 
take  at  least  two  weeks  to  git  it  into  her  head 
that  you  was  really  courtin'  her.  She  would  be 
just  as  likely  to  think  that  you  was  tryin'  to  git  a 
tenant  in  place  of  the  Mcjimseys.  But  a  month 
of  your  courtin'  and  a  month  of  my  workin'  would 
just  about  make  the  matter  all  right  with  Marietta, 
and  then  you  could  sail  in  and  settle  it." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Rooper,  rising  sud 
denly.  "  I  will  court  your  sister  for  one  month; 
and  if,  on  the  1 7th  day  of  August,  she  takes  me, 


68  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

you  can  go  up  to  the  store  and  git  them  clothes ; 
but  you  can't  do  it  one  minute  afore.  Good- 
mornin'." 

Asaph,  left  alone,  heaved  a  sigh.  He  did  not 
despair ;  but  truly,  fate  was  heaping  a  great  many 
obstacles  in  his  path.  He  thought  it  was  a  very 
hard  thing  for  a  man  to  get  his  rights  in  this 
world. 

Mrs.  Himes  sat  on  one  end  of  a  black  hair- 
covered  sofa  in  the  parlor,  and  Doctor  Wicker 
sat  on  a  black  hair-covered  chair  opposite  to  her 
and  not  far  away.  The  blinds  of  the  window 
opening  upon  the  garden  were  drawn  up ;  but 
those  on  the  front  window,  which  commanded  a 
view  of  the  chestnut-tree,  were  down.  Doctor 
Wicker  had  just  made  a  proposal  of  marriage  to 
Mrs.  Himes,  and  at  that  moment  they  were  both 
sitting  in  silence. 

The  doctor,  a  bluff,  hearty-looking  man  of  about 
forty-five,  had  been  very  favorably  impressed  by 
Mrs.  Himes  when  he  first  made  her  acquaintance, 
during  her  husband's  sickness,  and  since  that  time 
he  had  seen  her  occasionally  and  had  thought  about 
her  a  great  deal.  Latterly  letters  had  passed  be 
tween  them,  and  now  he  had  come  to  make  his 
declaration  in  person. 

It  was  true,  as  her  brother  had  said,  that  Mari 
etta  was  not  quick  in  making  up  her  mind.  But 
in  this  case  she  was  able  to  act  more  promptly 
than  usual,  because  she  had  in  a  great  measure 


ASAPH  69 

settled  this  matter  before  the  arrival  of  the  doctor. 
She  knew  he  was  going  to  propose,  and  she  was 
very  much  inclined  to  accept  him.  This  it  was 
which  had  made  her  smile  when  she  was  setting 
the  table  the  afternoon  before,  and  this  it  was 
which  had  prompted  her  to  make  her  proposition 
to  her  brother  in  regard  to  his  better  personal 
appearance. 

But  now  she  was  in  a  condition  of  nervous 
trepidation,  and  made  no  answer.  The  doctor 
thought  this  was  natural  enough  under  the  cir 
cumstances,  but  he  had  no  idea  of  the  cause  of  it. 
The  cause  of  it  was  sitting  under  the  chestnut-tree, 
the  bright  sunlight,  streaming  through  a  break  in 
the  branches  above,  illuminating  and  emphasizing 
and  exaggerating  his  extreme  shabbiness.  The 
doctor  had  never  seen  Asaph,  and  it  would  have 
been  a  great  shock  to  Marietta's  self-respect  to 
have  him  see  her  brother  in  his  present  aspect. 

Through  a  crack  in  the  blind  of  the  front  win 
dow  she  had  seen  Asaph  come  in  and  sit  down,  and 
she  had  seen  Mr.  Rooper  arrive  and  had  noticed 
his  departure.  And  now,  with  an  anxiety  which 
made  her  chin  tremble,  she  sat  and  hoped  that 
Asaph  would  get  up  and  go  away.  For  she  knew 
that  if  she  should  say  to  the  doctor  what  she  was 
perfectly  willing  to  say  then  and  there,  he  would 
very  soon  depart,  being  a  man  of  practical  mind 
and  pressing  business  ;  and  that,  going  to  the  front 
door  with  him,  she  would  be  obliged  to  introduce 


7o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

him  to  a  prospective  brother-in-law  whose  appear 
ance,  she  truly  believed,  would  make  him  sick. 
For  the  doctor  was  a  man,  she  well  knew,  who 
was  quite  as  nice  and  particular  about  dress  and 
personal  appearance  as  the  late  Mr.  Himes  had 
been. 

Doctor  Wicker,  aware  that  the  lady's  perturba 
tion  was  increasing  instead  of  diminishing,  thought 
it  wise  not  to  press  the  matter  at  this  moment. 
He  felt  that  he  had  been,  perhaps,  a  little  over- 
prompt  in  making  his  proposition.  "  Madam," 
said  he,  rising,  "  I  will  not  ask  you  to  give  me 
an  answer  now.  I  will  go  away  and  let  you  think 
about  it,  and  will  come  again  to-morrow." 

Through  the  crack  in  the  window-blind  Marietta 
saw  that  Asaph  was  still  under  the  tree.  What 
could  she  do  to  delay  the  doctor?  She  did  not 
offer  to  take  leave  of  him,  but  stood  looking  upon 
the  floor.  It  seemed  a  shame  to  make  so  good  a 
man  go  all  the  way  back  to  Timberley  and  come 
again  next  day,  just  because  that  ragged,  dirty 
Asaph  was  sitting  under  the  chestnut-tree. 

The  doctor  moved  toward  the  door,  and  as  she 
followed  him  she  glanced  once  more  through  the 
crack  in  the  window-blind,  and,  to  her  intense 
delight,  she  saw  Asaph  jump  up  from  the  bench 
and  run  around  to  the  side  of  the  house.  He 
had  heard  the  doctor's  footsteps  in  the  hallway 
and  had  not  wished  to  meet  him.  The  unsatis 
factory  condition  of  his  outward  appearance  had 


ASAPH  Ti 

been  so  strongly  impressed  upon  him  of  late  that 
he  had  become  a  little  sensitive  in  regard  to  it 
when  strangers  were  concerned.  But  if  he  had 
only  known  that  his  exceedingly  unattractive  gar 
ments  had  prevented  his  sister  from  making  a  com 
pact  which  would  have  totally  ruined  his  plans  in 
regard  to  her  matrimonial  disposition  and  his  own 
advantage,  he  would  have  felt  for  those  old  clothes 
the  respect  and  gratitude  with  which  a  Roman 
soldier  regarded  the  shield  and  sword  which  had 
won  him  a  battle. 

Down  the  middle  of  the  garden,  at  the  back  of 
the  house,  there  ran  a  path,  and  along  this  path 
Asaph  walked  meditatively,  with  his  hands  in  his 
trousers  pockets.  It  was  a  discouraging  place 
for  him  to  walk,  for  the  beds  on  each  side  of  him 
were  full  of  weeds,  which  he  had  intended  to  pull 
out  as  soon  as  he  should  find  time  for  the  work, 
but  which  had  now  grown  so  tall  and  strong  that 
they  could  not  be  rooted  up  without  injuring  the 
plants,  which  were  the  legitimate  occupants  of  the 
garden. 

Asaph  did  not  know  it,  but  at  this  moment 
there  was  not  one  person  in  the  whole  world  who 
thought  kindly  of  him.  His  sister  was  so  mor 
tified  by  him  that  she  was  in  tears  in  the  house. 
His  crony,  Thomas,  had  gone  away  almost  angry 
with  him,  and  even  Betsey,  whom  he  had  falsely 
accused  of  rickets,  and  who  had  often  shown  a 
pity  for  him  simply  because  he  looked  so  forlorn, 


72  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

had  steeled  her  heart  against  him  that  morning 
when  she  found  he  had  gone  away  without  pro 
viding  her  with  any  fuel  for  the  kitchen  fire. 

But  he  had  not  made  a  dozen  turns  up  and  down 
the  path  before  he  became  aware  of  the  feeling  of 
Marietta.  She  looked  out  of  the  back  door  and 
then  walked  rapidly  toward  him.  "  Asaph,"  said 
she,  "  I  hope  you  are  considering  what  I  said  to 
you  yesterday,  for  I  mean  to  stick  to  my  word. 
If  you  don't  choose  to  accept  my  offer,  I  want 
you  to  go  back  to  Drummondville  early  to-mor 
row  morning.  And  I  don't  feel  in  the  least  as  if 
I  were  turning  you  out  of  the  house,  for  I  have 
given  you  a  chance  to  stay  here,  and  have  only 
asked  you  to  act  like  a  decent  Christian.  I  will 
not  have  you  here  disgracing  my  home.  When 
Doctor  Wicker  came  to-day,  and  I  looked  out 
and  saw  you  with  that  miserable  little  coat  with 
the  sleeves  half-way  up  to  the  elbows  and  great 
holes  in  it  which  you  will  not  let  anybody  patch 
because  you  are  too  proud  to  wear  patches,  and 
those  wretched  faded  trousers,  out  at  the  knees, 
and  which  have  been  turned  up  and  hemmed  at 
the  bottom  so  often  that  they  are  six  inches  above 
your  shoes,  and  your  whole  scarecrow  appearance, 
I  was  so  ashamed  of  you  that  I  could  not  keep 
the  tears  out  of  my  eyes.  To  tell  a  respectable 
gentleman  like  Doctor  Wicker  that  you  were  my 
brother  was  more  than  I  could  bear ;  and  I  was 
glad  when  I  saw  you  get  up  and  sneak  out  of  the 


ASAPH  73 

way.  I  hate  to  talk  to  you  in  this  way,  Asaph, 
but  you  have  brought  it  on  yourself." 

Her  brother  looked  at  her  a  moment.  "Do 
you  want  me  to  go  away  before  breakfast?  "  he 
said. 

"  No,"  answered  Marietta,  "  but  immediately 
afterward."  And  in  her  mind  she  resolved  that 
breakfast  should  be  very  early  the  next  morn 
ing. 

If  Asaph  had  any  idea  of  yielding,  he  did  not 
intend  to  show  it  until  the  last  moment,  and  so  he 
changed  the  subject.  "  What's  the  matter  with 
Betsey?  "  said  he.  "  If  she's  out  of  health  you'd 
better  get  rid  of  her." 

"  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  Betsey," 
answered  his  sister.  "  Doctor  Wicker  came  to 
see  me." 

"Came  to  see  you!"  exclaimed  her  brother. 
"  What  in  the  world  did  he  do  that  for?  You 
never  told  me  that  you  were  ailin'.  Is  it  that 
sprain  in  your  ankle?  " 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Marietta.  "  I  had  almost 
recovered  from  that  sprain  when  you  came  here. 
There's  nothing  the  matter  with  my  ankle ;  the 
trouble  is  probably  with  my  heart." 

The  moment  she  said  this  she  regretted  it,  for 
Asaph  had  so  good  a  head,  and  could  catch  mean 
ings  so  quickly. 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,  Marietta,"  said  Asaph. 
"  That's  a  good  deal  more  serious." 


74  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  Yes,"  said  she.  And  she  turned  and  went 
back  to  the  house. 

Asaph  continued  to  walk  up  and  down  the  path. 
He  had  not  done  a  stroke  of  work  that  morning, 
but  he  did  not  think  of  that.  His  sister's  com 
munication  saddened  him.  He  liked  Marietta, 
and  it  grieved  him  to  hear  that  she  had  anything 
the  matter  with  her  heart.  He  knew  that  that 
often  happened  to  people  who  looked  perfectly 
well,  and  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should 
have  suspected  any  disorder  in  her.  Of  course, 
in  this  case,  there  was  good  reason  for  her  send 
ing  for  the  very  best  doctor  to  be  had.  It  was 
all  plain  enough  to  him  now. 

But  as  he  walked  and  walked  and  walked,  and 
looked  at  the  garden,  and  looked  at  the  little 
orchard,  and  looked  at  the  house  and  the  top  of 
the  big  chestnut-tree,  which  showed  itself  above 
the  roof,  a  thought  came  into  his  mind  which  had 
never  been  there  before  —  he  was  Marietta's  heir. 
It  was  a  dreadful  thing  to  think  of  his  sister's  pos 
sible  early  departure  from  this  world ;  but,  after 
all,  life  is  life,  reality  is  reality,  and  business  is 
business.  He  was  Marietta's  only  legal  heir. 

Of  course  he  had  known  this  before,  but  it 
had  never  seemed  to  be  of  any  importance.  He 
was  a  good  deal  older  than  she  was,  and  he  had 
always  looked  upon  her  as  a  marrying  woman. 
When  he  made  his  proposition  to  Mr.  Rooper  the 
thought  of  his  own  heirship  never  came  into  his 


ASAPH  75 

mind.  In  fact,  if  any  one  had  offered  him  ten 
dollars  for  said  heirship,  he  would  have  asked 
fifteen,  and  would  have  afterward  agreed  to  split 
the  difference  and  take  twelve  and  a  half. 

But  now  everything  had  changed.  If  Marietta 
had  anything  the  matter  with  her  heart  there  was 
no  knowing  when  all  that  he  saw  might  be  his 
own.  No  sooner  had  he  walked  and  thought 
long  enough  for  his  mind  to  fully  appreciate  the 
altered  aspects  of  his  future  than  he  determined 
to  instantly  thrust  out  Mr.  Rooper  from  all  con 
nection  with  that  future.  He  would  go  and  tell 
him  so  at  once. 

To  the  dismay  of  Betsey,  who  had  been  watch 
ing  him,  expecting  that  he  would  soon  stop  walk 
ing  about  and  go  and  saw  some  wood  with  which 
to  cook  the  dinner,  he  went  out  of  the  front  gate 
and  strode  rapidly  into  the  village.  He  had  some 
trouble  in  finding  Mr.  Rooper,  who  had  gone  off 
to  take  a  walk  and  arrange  a  conversation  with 
which  to  begin  his  courtship  of  Mrs.  Himes  ;  but 
he  overtook  him  under  a  tree  by  the  side  of  the 
creek.  "Thomas,"  said  he,  "I  have  changed 
my  mind  about  that  business  between  us.  You 
have  been  very  hard  on  me,  and  I'm  not  goin'  to 
stand  it.  I  can  get  the  clothes  and  things  I  need 
without  makin'  myself  your  slave  and  workin' 
myself  to  death,  and,  perhaps,  settin'  my  sister 
agin  me  for  life  by  tryin'  to  make  her  believe  that 
black's  white,  that  you  are  the  kind  of  husband 


76  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

she  ought  to  have,  and  that  you  hate  pipes  and 
never  touch  spirits.  It  would  be  a  mean  thing 
for  me  to  do,  and  I  won't  do  it.  I  did  think  you 
were  a  generous-minded  man,  with  the  right  sort 
of  feeling  for  them  as  wanted  to  be  your  friends  ; 
but  I  have  found  out  that  I  was  mistook,  and  I'm 
not  goin'  to  sacrifice  my  sister  to  any  such  per 
son.  Now  that's  my  state  of  mind  plain  and 
square." 

Thomas  Rooper  shrunk  two  inches  in  height. 
"  Asaph  Scantle,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  which  seemed 
also  to  have  shrunk,  "  I  don't  understand  you. 
I  wasn't  hard  on  you.  I  only  wanted  to  make  a 
fair  bargain.  If  I'd  got  her,  I'd  paid  up  cash  on 
delivery.  You  couldn't  expect  a  man  to  do  more 
than  that.  But  I  tell  you,  Asaph,  that  I  am 
mighty  serious  about  this.  The  more  I  have 
thought  about  your  sister  the  more  I  want  her. 
And  when  I  tell  you  that  I've  been  a-thinkin' 
about  her  pretty  much  all  night,  you  may  know 
that  I  want  her  a  good  deal.  And  I  was  intendin' 
to  go  to-morrow  and  begin  to  court  her." 

"  Well,  you  needn't,"  said  Asaph.  "  It  won't 
do  no  good.  If  you  don't  have  me  to  back  you 
up  you  might  as  well  try  to  twist  that  tree  as  to 
move  her.  You  can't  do  it." 

"  But  you  don't  mean  to  go  agin  me,  do  you, 
Asaph?  "  asked  Thomas,  ruefully. 

'  'Tain't  necessary,"  replied  the  other.  "You 
will  go  agin  yourself." 


ASAPH  77 

For  a  few  moments  Mr.  Rooper  remained  silent. 
He  was  greatly  discouraged  and  dismayed  by  what 
had  been  said  to  him,  but  he  could  not  yet  give 
up  what  had  become  the  great  object  of  his  life. 
"  Asaph,"  said  he,  presently,  "  it  cuts  me  to  the 
in'arcls  to  think  that  you  have  gone  back  on  me; 
but  I  tell  you  what  I'll  do:  if  you  will  promise 
not  to  say  anything  agin  me  to  Mrs.  Himes,  and 
not  to  set  yourself  in  any  way  between  me  and 
her,  I'll  go  along  with  you  to  the  store  now,  and 
you  can  git  that  suit  of  clothes  and  the  umbrella, 
and  I'll  tell  'em  to  order  the  dictionary  and  hand 
it  over  to  you  as  soon  as  it  comes.  I'd  like  you 
to  help  me,  but  if  you  will  only  promise  to  stand 
out  of  the  way  and  not  hinder,  I'll  do  the  fair 
thing  by  you  and  pay  in  advance." 

"  Humph!  "  said  Asaph.  "  I  do  believe  you 
think  you  are  the  only  man  that  wants  Marietta." 

A  pang  passed  through  the  heart  of  Mr.  Rooper. 
He  had  been  thinking  a  great  deal  of  Mrs.  Himes 
and  everything  connected  with  her,  and  he  had 
even  thought  of  that  visit  of  Doctor  Wicker's. 
That  gentleman  was  a  widower  and  a  well-to-do 
and  well-appearing  man ;  and  it  would  have  been 
a  long  way  for  him  to  come  just  for  some  trifling 
rickets  in  a  servant-girl.  Being  really  in  love,  his 
imagination  was  in  a  very  capering  mood,  and  he 
began  to  fear  that  the  doctor  had  come  to  court 
Mrs.  Himes.  "  Asaph,"  he  said,  quickly,  "  that's 
a  good  offer  I  make  you.  If  you  take  it,  in  less 


78  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

than  an  hour  you  can  walk  home  looking  like  a 
gentleman." 

Asaph  had  taken  his  reed  pipe  from  his  coat 
pocket  and  was  filling  it.  As  he  pushed  the 
coarse  tobacco  into  the  bowl,  he  considered. 
"  Thomas,"  said  he,  "  that  ain't  enough.  Things 
have  changed,  and  it  wouldn't  pay  me.  But  I 
won't  be  hard  on  you.  I'm  a  good  friend  of 
yourn,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  If  you  will 
give  me  now  all  the  things  we  spoke  of  between 
us  —  and  I  forgot  to  mention  a  cane  and  pocket- 
handkerchiefs —  and  give  me,  besides,  that  meer 
schaum  pipe  of  yourn,  I'll  promise  not  to  hinder 
you,  but  let  you  go  ahead  and  git  Marietta  if  you 
kin.  I  must  say  it's  a  good  deal  for  me  to  do, 
knowin'  how  much  you'll  git  and  how  little  you'll 
give,  and  knowin',  too,  the  other  chances  she's 
got  if  she  wanted  'em;  but  I'll  do  it  for  the  sake 
of  friendship." 

"  My  meerschaum  pipe! "  groaned  Mr.  Rooper. 
"  My  Centennial  Exhibition  pipe!  "  His  tones 
were  so  plaintive  that  for  a  moment  Asaph  felt  a 
little  touch  of  remorse.  But  then  he  reflected  that 
if  Thomas  really  did  get  Marietta  the  pipe  would 
be  of  no  use  to  him,  for  she  would  not  allow  him 
to  smoke  it.  And,  besides,  realities  were  realities 
and  business  was  business.  "  That  pipe  may 
be  very  dear  to  you,"  he  said,  "  Thomas,  but  I 
want  you  to  remember  that  Marietta's  very  dear 
to  me." 


ASAPH  79 

This  touched  Mr.  Rooper,  whose  heart  was 
sensitive  as  it  had  never  been  before.  "  Come 
along,  Asaph,"  he  said.  "  You  shall  have  every 
thing,  meerschaum  pipe  included.  If  anybody 
but  me  is  goin'  to  smoke  that  pipe,  I'd  like  it  to 
be  my  brother-in-law. "  Thus,  with  amber-tipped 
guile,  Mr.  Rooper  hoped  to  win  over  his  friend 
to  not  only  not  hinder,  but  to  help  him. 

As  the  two  men  walked  away,  Asaph  thought 
that  he  was  not  acting  an  unfraternal  part  toward 
Marietta,  for  it  would  not  be  necessary  for  him 
to  say  or  do  anything  to  induce  her  to  refuse  so 
unsuitable  a  suitor  as  Thomas  Rooper. 

About  fifteen  minutes  before  dinner  —  which 
had  been  cooked  with  bits  of  wood  which  Betsey 
had  picked  up  here  and  there  —  was  ready,  Asaph 
walked  into  the  front  yard  of  his  sister's  house 
attired  in  a  complete  suit  of  new  clothes,  thick 
and  substantial  in  texture,  pepper-and-salt  in  color, 
and  as  long  in  the  legs  and  arms  as  the  most  fas 
tidious  could  desire.  He  had  on  a  new  shirt  and 
a  clean  collar,  with  a  handsome  black  silk  cravat 
tied  in  a  great  bow ;  and  a  new  felt  hat  was  on  his 
head.  On  his  left  arm  he  carried  an  overcoat, 
carefully  folded,  with  the  lining  outside,  and  in 
his  right  hand  an  umbrella  and  a  cane.  In  his 
pockets  were  half  a  dozen  new  handkerchiefs 
and  the  case  containing  Mr.  Rooper's  Centennial 
meerschaum. 

Marietta,   who  was   in  the  hallway  when  he 


8o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

opened  the  front  door,  scarcely  knew  him  as  he 
approached. 

"  Asaph!  "  she  exclaimed.  "What  has  hap 
pened  to  you?  Why,  you  actually  look  like  a 
gentleman! " 

Asaph  grinned.  "  Do  you  want  me  to  go  to 
Drummondville  right  after  breakfast  to-morrow?" 
he  asked. 

"  My  dear  brother,"  said  Marietta,  "  don't  crush 
me  by  talking  about  that.  But  if  you  could  have 
seen  yourself  as  I  saw  you,  and  could  have  felt  as 
I  felt,  you  would  not  wonder  at  me.  You  must 
forget  all  that.  I  should  be  proud  now  to  intro 
duce  you  as  my  brother  to  any  doctor  or  king  or 
president.  But  tell  me  how  you  got  those  beauti 
ful  clothes." 

Asaph  was  sometimes  beset  by  an  absurd  regard 
for  truth,  which  much  annoyed  him.  He  could 
not  say  that  he  had  worked  for  the  clothes,  and 
he  did  not  wish  his  sister  to  think  that  he  had 
run  in  debt  for  them.  "  They're  paid  for,  every 
thread  of  'em,"  he  said.  "  I  got  'em  in  trade. 
These  things  is  mine,  and  I  don't  owe  no  man  a 
cent  for  'em ;  and  it  seems  to  me  that  dinner  must 
be  ready." 

"  And  proud  I  am,"  said  Marietta,  who  never 
before  had  shown  such  enthusiastic  affection  for 
her  brother,  "  to  sit  down  to  the  table  with  such 
a  nice-looking  fellow  as  you  are." 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Rooper  came  into  Mrs. 


ASAPH  81 

Himes's  yard,  and  there  beheld  Asaph,  in  all  the 
glory  of  his  new  clothes,  sitting  under  the  chest 
nut-tree  smoking  the  Centennial  meerschaum  pipe. 
Mr.  Rooper  himself  was  dressed  in  his  very  best 
clothes,  but  he  carried  with  him  no  pipe. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Asaph,  "  and  have  a  smoke." 

"  No,"  replied  the  other;  "  I  am  goin'  in  the 
house.  I  have  come  to  see  your  sister." 

"  Goin'  to  begin  already?  "  said  Asaph. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other ;  "  I  told  you  I  was  goin' 
to  begin  to-day." 

"  Very  good,"  said  his  friend,  crossing  his  pep 
per-and-salt  legs;  "  and  you  will  finish  the  ryth 
of  August.  That's  a  good,  reasonable  time." 

But  Mr.  Rooper  had  no  intention  of  courting 
Mrs.  Himes  for  a  month.  He  intended  to  pro 
pose  to  her  that  very  morning.  He  had  been 
turning  over  the  matter  in  his  mind,  and  for  sev 
eral  reasons  had  come  to  this  conclusion.  In  the 
first  place,  he  did  not  believe  that  he  could  trust 
Asaph,  even  for  a  single  day,  not  to  oppose  him. 
Furthermore,  his  mind  was  in  such  a  turmoil 
from  the  combined  effect  of  the  constantly  pres 
ent  thought  that  Asaph  was  wearing  his  clothes, 
his  hat,  and  his  shoes,  and  smoking  his  beloved 
pipe,  and  of  the  perplexities  and  agitations  conse 
quent  upon  his  sentiments  toward  Mrs.  Himes, 
that  he  did  not  believe  he  could  bear  the  mental 
strain  during  another  night. 

Five  minutes  later  Marietta  Himes  was  sitting 


82  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

on  the  horsehair  sofa  in  the  parlor,  with  Mr. 
Rooper  on  the  horsehair  chair  opposite  to  her, 
and  not  very  far  away,  and  he  was  delivering  the 
address  which  he  had  prepared. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "I  am  a  man  that  takes 
things  in  this  world  as  they  comes,  and  is  con 
tent  to  wait  until  the  time  comes  for  them  to 
come.  I  was  well  acquainted  with  John  Himes. 
I  knowed  him  in  life,  and  I  helped  lay  him  out. 
As  long  as  there  was  reason  to  suppose  that  the 
late  Mr.  Himes  —  I  mean  that  the  grass  over  the 
grave  of  Mr.  Himes  had  remained  unwithered,  I 
am  not  the  man  to  take  one  step  in  the  direction 
of  his  shoes,  nor  even  to  consider  the  size  of  'em 
in  connection  with  the  measure  of  my  own  feet. 
But  time  will  pass  on  in  nater  as  well  as  in  real 
life ;  and  while  I  know  very  well,  Mrs.  Himes, 
that  certain  feelin's  toward  them  that  was  is  like 
the  leaves  of  the  oak-tree  and  can't  be  blowed  off 
even  by  the  fiercest  tempests  of  affliction,  still 
them  leaves  will  wither  in  the  fall  and  turn  brown 
and  curl  up  at  the  edges,  though  they  don't  de 
part,  but  stick  on  tight  as  wax  all  winter  until  in 
the  springtime  they  is  pushed  off  gently  without 
knowin'  it  by  the  green  leaves  which  come  out  in 
real  life  as  well  as  nater. " 

When  he  had  finished  this  opening  Mr.  Rooper 
breathed  a  little  sigh  of  relief.  He  had  not  for 
gotten  any  of  it,  and  it  pleased  him. 

Marietta  sat  and  looked  at  him.     She  had  a 


ASAPH  83 

good  sense  of  humor,  and,  while  she  was  natu 
rally  surprised  at  what  had  been  said  to  her,  she 
was  greatly  amused  by  it,  and  really  wished  to 
hear  what  else  Thomas  Rooper  had  to  say  to  her. 

"Now,  madam,"  he  continued,  "I  am  not 
the  man  to  thrash  a  tree  with  a  pole  to  knock  the 
leaves  off  before  their  time.  But  when  the  young 
leaves  is  pushin'  and  the  old  leaves  is  droppin' 
(not  to  make  any  allusion,  of  course,  to  any  shriv- 
ellin'  of  proper  respect),  then  I  come  forward, 
madam,  not  to  take  the  place  of  anybody  else, 
but  jest  asthenateral  consequence  of  the  seasons, 
which  everybody  ought  to  expect ;  even  such  as 
you,  madam,  which  I  may  liken  to  a  hemlock- 
spruce  which  keeps  straight  on  in  the  same  gen 
eral  line  of  appearance  without  no  reference  to  the 
fall  of  the  year,  nor  winter  nor  summer.  And  so, 
Mrs.  Himes,  I  come  here  to-day  to  offer  to  lead 
you  agin  to  the  altar.  I  have  never  been  there 
myself,  and  there  ain't  no  woman  in  the  world 
that  I'd  go  with  but  you.  I'm  a  straightforward 
person,  and  when  I've  got  a  thing  to  say  I  say 
it,  and  now  I  have  said  it.  And  so  I  set  here 
awaitin'  your  answer." 

At  this  moment  the  shutters  of  the  front  win 
dow,  which  had  been  closed,  were  opened,  and 
Asaph  put  in  his  head.  "  Look  here,  Thomas 
Rooper,"  he  said,  "these  shoes  is  pegged.  I 
didn't  bargain  for  no  pegged  shoes ;  I  wanted 
'em  sewed;  everything  was  to  be  first-class." 


84  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

Mr.  Rooper,  who  had  been  leaning  forward  in 
his  chair,  his  hands  upon  his  knees,  and  his  face 
glistening  with  his  expressed  feelings  as  brightly 
as  the  old-fashioned  but  shining  silk  hat  which 
stood  on  the  floor  by  his  side,  turned  his  head, 
grew  red  to  the  ears,  and  then  sprang  to  his  feet. 
"  Asaph  Scantle,"  he  cried,  with  extended  fist, 
"  you  have  broke  your  word;  you  hindered." 

"No,  I  didn't,"  said  Asaph,  sulkily;  "but 
pegged  shoes  is  too  much  for  any  man  to  stand." 
And  he  withdrew  from  the  window,  closing  the 
shutters  again. 

"  What  does  this  mean?  "  asked  Mrs.  Himes, 
who  had  also  risen. 

"  It  means,"  said  Thomas,  speaking  with  diffi 
culty,  his  indignation  was  so  great,  "  that  your 
brother  is  a  person  of  tricks  and  meanders  be 
yond  the  reach  of  common  human  calculation.  I 
don't  like  to  say  this  of  a  man  who  is  more  or  less 
likely  to  be  my  brother-in-law,  but  I  can't  help 
sayin'  it,  so  entirely  upset  am  I  at  his  goin'  back 
on  me  at  such  a  minute." 

"Going  back  on  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Himes. 
' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  has  he  prom 
ised?  " 

Thomas  hesitated.  He  did  not  wish  to  inter 
rupt  his  courtship  by  the  discussion  of  any  new 
question,  especially  this  question.  "  If  we  could 
settle  what  we  have  been  talkin'  about,  Mrs. 
Himes,"  he  said,  "  and  if  you  would  give  me  my 


ASAPH  85 

answer,  then  I  could  git  my  mind  down  to  com 
moner  things.  But  swingin'  on  a  hook  as  I  am, 
I  don't  know  whether  my  head  or  my  heels  is 
uppermost,  or  what's  revolvin'  around  me." 

"  Oh,  I  can  give  you  your  answer  quickly 
enough,"  she  said.  "It  is  impossible  for  me  to 
marry  you,  so  that's  all  settled." 

"  Impossible  is  a  big  word,"  said  Mr.  Rooper. 
"  Has  anybody  else  got  afore  me?  " 

"  I  am  not  bound  to  answer  that  question," 
said  Marietta,  slightly  coloring;  "but  I  cannot 
accept  you,  Mr.  Rooper." 

"  Then  there's  somebody  else,  of  course,"  said 
Thomas,  gazing  darkly  upon  the  floor.  "  And 
what's  more,  Asaph  knew  it ;  that's  just  as  clear 
as  daylight.  That's  what  made  him  come  to  me 
yesterday  and  go  back  on  his  first  bargain." 

"  Now  then,"  said  Mrs.  Himes,  speaking  very 
decidedly,  "  I  want  to  know  what  you  mean  by 
this  talk  about  bargains." 

Mr.  Rooper  knit  his  brows.  "  This  is  mighty 
different  talk,"  he  said,  "  from  the  kind  I  expected 
when  I  come  here.  But  you  have  answered  my 
question,  now  I'll  answer  yours.  Asaph  Scantle, 
no  longer  ago  than  day  before  yesterday,  after 
hearin'  that  things  wasn't  goin'  very  well  with 
me,  recommended  me  to  marry  you,  and  agreed 
that  he  would  do  his  level  best,  by  day  and  by 
night,  to  help  me  git  you,  if  I  would  give  him  a 
suit  of  clothes,  an  umbrella,  and  a  dictionary." 


86  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

At  this  Mrs.  Himes  gave  a  little  gasp  and  sat 
down. 

"  Now,  I  hadn't  no  thoughts  of  tradin'  for  a 
wife,"  continued  Thomas,  "  especially  in  woollen 
goods  and  books ;  but  when  I  considered  and 
turned  the  matter  over  in  my  mind,  and  thought 
what  a  woman  you  was,  and  what  a  life  there  was 
afore  me  if  I  got  you,  I  agreed  to  do  it.  Then 
he  wanted  pay  aforehand,  and  that  I  wouldn't 
agree  to,  not  because  I  thought  you  wasn't  wuth 
it,  but  because  I  couldn't  trust  him  if  anybody 
offered  him  more  before  I  got  you.  But  that  ain't 
the  wust  of  it ;  yesterday  he  come  down  to  see 
me  and  went  back  on  his  bargain,  and  that  after 
I  had  spent  the  whole  night  thinkin'  of  you  and 
what  I  was  goin'  to  say.  And  he  put  on  such 
high-cockalorum  airs  that  I,  bein'  as  soft  as  mush 
around  the  heart,  jest  wilted  and  agreed  to  give 
him  everything  he  bargained  for  if  he  would  prom 
ise  not  to  hinder.  But  he  wasn't  satisfied  with 
that  and  wouldn't  come  to  no  terms  until  I'd  give 
him  my  Centennial  pipe,  what's  been  like  a  child 
to  me  this  many  a  year.  And  when  he  saw  how 
disgruntled  I  was  at  sich  a  loss,  he  said  that  my 
pipe  might  be  very  dear  to  me,  but  his  sister  was 
jest  as  dear  to  him.  And  then,  on  top  of  the 
whole  thing,  he  pokes  his  head  through  the  shut 
ters  and  hinders  jest  at  the  most  ticklish  moment. " 

"A  dictionary  and  a  pipe!  "  ejaculated  poor 
Marietta,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor. 


ASAPH  87 

"  But  I'm  goin'  to  make  him  give  'em  all  back," 
exclaimed  Thomas.  "  They  was  the  price  of  not 
hinderin',  and  he  hindered." 

"  He  shall  give  them  back,"  said  Marietta, 
rising,  "  but  you  must  understand,  Mr.  Rooper, 
that  in  no  way  did  Asaph  interfere  with  your 
marrying  me.  That  was  a  matter  with  which  he 
did  have  and  could  have  nothing  to  do.  And  now 
I  wish  you  could  get  away  without  speaking  to 
him.  I  do  not  want  any  quarrelling  or  high 
words  here,  and  I  will  see  him  and  arrange  the 
matter  better  than  you  can  do  it." 

"  Oh,  I  can  git  away  without  speakin'  to  him," 
said  Mr.  Rooper,  with  reddened  face.  And  so 
saying,  he  strode  out  of  the  house,  through  the 
front  yard,  and  out  of  the  gate,  without  turning 
his  head  toward  Asaph,  still  sitting  under  the 
tree. 

"  Oh,  ho!"  said  the  latter  to  himself;  "  she's 
bounced  him  short  and  sharp ;  and  it  serves  him 
right,  too,  after  playin'  that  trick  on  me.  Pegged 
shoes,  indeed!  " 

At  this  moment  the  word  "  Asaph  "  came  from 
the  house  in  tones  shriller  and  sharper  and  higher 
than  any  in  which  he  had  ever  heard  it  pronounced 
before.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  went  to  the 
house.  His  sister  took  him  into  the  parlor  and 
shut  the  door.  Her  eyes  were  red  and  her  face 
was  pale.  "  Asaph,"  said  she,  "  Mr.  Rooper  has 
told  me  the  whole  of  your  infamous  conduct.  Now 


88  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

I  know  what  you  meant  when  you  said  that  you 
were  making  arrangements  to  get  clothes.  You 
were  going  to  sell  me  for  them.  And  when  you 
found  out  that  I  was  likely  to  marry  Doctor  Wicker, 
you  put  up  your  price  and  wanted  a  dictionary 
and  a  pipe." 

"  No,  Marietta,"  said  Asaph,  "  the, dictionary 
belonged  to  the  first  bargain.  If  you  knew  how 
I  need  a  dictionary  —  " 

"  Be  still!"  she  cried.  "  I  do  not  want  you 
to  say  a  word.  You  have  acted  most  shamefully 
toward  me,  and  I  want  you  to  go  away  this  very 
day.  And  before  you  go  you  must  give  back  to 
Mr.  Rooper  everything  that  you  got  from  him. 
I  will  fit  you  out  with  some  of  Mr.  Himes's 
clothes  and  make  no  conditions  at  all,  only  that 
you  shall  go  away.  Come  upstairs  with  me,  and 
I  will  get  the  clothes." 

The  room  in  the  garret  was  opened,  and  vari 
ous  garments  which  had  belonged  to  the  late 
Mr.  Himes  were  brought  out. 

"This  is  pretty  hard  on  me,  Marietta,"  said 
Asaph,  as  he  held  up  a  coat,  "  to  give  up  new 
all-wool  goods  for  things  what  has  been  worn  and 
is  part  cotton,  if  I  am  a  judge." 

Marietta  said  very  little.  She  gave  him  what 
clothes  he  needed,  and  insisted  on  his  putting 
them  on,  making  a  package  of  the  things  he  had 
received  from  Mr.  Rooper,  and  returning  them 
to  that  gentleman.  Asaph  at  first  grumbled,  but 


ASAPH  89 

he  finally  obeyed  with  a  willingness  which  might 
have  excited  the  suspicions  of  Marietta  had  she 
not  been  so  angry. 

With  an  enormous  package  wrapped  in  brown 
paper  in  one  hand,  and  a  cane,  an  umbrella,  and 
a  very  small  hand-bag  in  the  other,  Asaph  ap 
proached  the  tavern.  Mr.  Rooper  was  sitting  on 
the  piazza  alone.  He  was  smoking  a  very  com 
mon-looking  clay  pipe  and  gazing  intently  into 
the  air  in  front  of  him.  When  his  old  crony 
came  and  stood  before  the  piazza  he  did  not  turn 
his  head  nor  his  eyes. 

"  Thomas  Rooper,"  said  Asaph,  "  you  have  got 
me  into  a  very  bad  scrape.  I  have  been  turned 
out  of  doors  on  account  of  what  you  said  about 
me.  And  where  I  am  goin'  I  don't  know,  for  I 
can't  walk  to  Drummondville.  And  what's  more, 
I  kept  my  word  and  you  didn't.  I  didn't  hinder 
you ;  for  how  could  I  suppose  that  you  was  goin' 
to  pop  the  question  the  very  minute  you  got  in 
side  the  door?  And  that  dictionary  you  promised 
I've  not  got." 

Thomas  Rooper  answered  not  a  word,  but  looked 
steadily  in  front  of  him.  "  And  there's  another 
thing,"  said  Asaph.  "  What  are  you  goin'  to 
allow  me  for  that  suit  of  clothes  what  I've  been 
wearin',  what  I  took  off  in  your  room  and  left 
there?  " 

At  this  Mr.  Rooper  sprang  to  his  feet  with 
such  violence  that  the  fire  danced  out  of  the  bowl 


90  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

of  his  pipe.  ' '  What  is  the  fare  to  Drummond- 
ville?  "  he  cried. 

Asaph  reflected  a  moment.  ' '  Three  dollars  and 
fifty  cents,  includin'  supper." 

"I'll  give  you  that  for  them  clothes,"  said  the 
other,  and  counted  out  the  money. 

Asaph  took  it  and  sighed.  "  You've  been  hard 
on  me,  Thomas,"  said  he,  "  but  I  bear  you  no 
grudge.  Good-by." 

As  he  walked  slowly  toward  the  station  Mr. 
Scantle  stopped  at  the  store.  "  Has  that  diction 
ary  come  that  was  ordered  for  me?  "  he  said ;  and 
when  told  that  it  could  not  be  expected  for  several 
days  he  did  not  despair,  for  it  was  possible  that 
Thomas  Rooper  might  be  so  angry  that  he  would 
forget  to  countermand  the  order ;  in  that  case  he 
might  yet  hope  to  obtain  the  coveted  book. 

The  package  containing  the  Rooper  winter  suit 
was  heavy,  and  Asaph  walked  slowly.  He  did 
not  want  to  go  to  Drummondville,  for  he  hated 
bookkeeping,  and  his  year  of  leisure  and  good 
living  had  spoiled  him  for  work  and  poor  fare. 
In  this  moody  state  he  was  very  glad  to  stop  and 
have  a  little  chat  with  Mrs.  Mcjimsey,  who  was 
sitting  at  her  front  window. 

This  good  lady  was  the  principal  dressmaker  of 
the  village ;  and  by  hard  work  and  attention  to 
business  she  made  a  very  comfortable  living.  She 
was  a  widow,  small  of  stature,  thin  of  feature,  very 
neatly  dressed  and  pleasant  to  look  at.  Asaph 


ASAPH  91 

entered  the  little  front  yard,  put  his  package  on 
the  door-step,  and  stood  under  the  window  to  talk 
to  her.  Dressed  in  the  clothes  of  the  late  Mr. 
Ilimes,  her  visitor  presented  such  a  respectable 
appearance  that  Mrs.  Mcjimsey  was  not  in  the 
least  ashamed  to  have  people  see  him  standing 
there,  which  she  would  have  been  a  few  days  ago. 
Indeed,  she  felt  complimented  that  he  should  want 
to  stop.  The  conversation  soon  turned  upon  her 
removal  from  her  present  abode. 

"  I'm  awfully  sorry  to  have  to  go,"  she  said; 
"  for  my  time  is  up  just  in  the  middle  of  my  busy 
season,  and  that's  goin'  to  throw  me  back  dread 
fully.  He  hasn't  done  right  by  me,  that  Mr. 
Rooper,  in  lettin'  things  go  to  rack  and  ruin  in 
this  way,  and  me  payin'  his  rent  so  regular." 

"  That's  true,"  said  Asaph.  "  Thomas  Rooper 
is  a  hard  man  —  a  hard  man,  Mrs.  Mcjimsey.  I 
can  see  how  he  would  be  overbearin'  with  a  lone 
woman  like  you,  neither  your  son  nor  your  daugh 
ter  bein'  of  age  yet  to  take  your  part." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Scantle,  it's  very  hard." 

Asaph  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  a  little  bed 
of  zinnias  by  the  side  of  the  door-step.  "  What 
you  want,  Mrs.  Mcjimsey,"  said  he,  "  is  a  man 
in  the  house." 

In  an  instant  Mrs.  Mcjimsey  flushed  pink.  It 
was  such  a  strange  thing  for  a  gentleman  to  say 
to  her. 

Asaph  saw  the  flush.     He  had  not  expected 


92  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

that  result  from  his  remark,  but  he  was  quick  to 
take  advantage  of  it.  "  Mrs.  Mcjimsey,"  said  he, 
"  you  are  a  widow,  and  you  are  imposed  upon,  and 
you  need  somebody  to  take  care  of  you.  If  you 
will  put  that  job  into  my  hands  I  will  do  it.  I 
am  a  man  what  works  with  his  head,  and  if  you 
will  let  me  I'll  work  for  you.  To  put  it  square, 
I  ask  you  to  marry  me.  My  sister's  goin'  to  be 
married,  and  I'm  on  the  pint  of  goin'  away ;  for  I 
could  not  abear  to  stay  in  her  house  when  strangers 
come  into  it.  But  if  you  say  the  word,  I'll  stay 
here  and  be  yours  for  ever  and  ever  more." 

Mrs.  Mcjimsey  said  not  a  word,  but  her  head 
drooped  and  wild  thoughts  ran  through  her  brain. 
Thoughts  not  wild,  but  well  trained  and  broken, 
ran  through  Asaph's  brain.  The  idea  of  going 
to  Drummondville  and  spending  for  the  journey 
thither  a  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents  of  the  money 
he  had  received  from  Mr.  Rooper  now  became 
absolutely  repulsive  to  him. 

"  Mrs.  Mcjimsey,"  said  he,  "  I  will  say  more. 
Not  only  do  I  ask  you  to  marry  me,  but  I  ask 
you  to  do  it  now.  The  evenin'  sun  is  settin',  the 
evenin'  birds  is  singin',  and  it  seems  to  me,  Mrs. 
Mcjimsey,  that  all  nater  pints  to  this  softenin' 
hour  as  a  marryin'  moment.  You  say  your  son 
won't  be  home  from  his  svork  until  supper-time, 
and  your  daughter  has  gone  out  for  a  walk.  Come 
with  me  to  Mr.  Parker's,  the  Methodist  minister, 
and  let  us  join  hands  at  the  altar  there.  The 


ASAPH  93 

gardener  and  his  wife  is  always  ready  to  stand 
up  as  witnesses.  And  when  your  son  and  your 
daughter  comes  home  to  supper,  they  can  find 
their  mother  here  afore  'em  married  and  set 
tled." 

"  But,  Mr.  Scantle, "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mcjim- 
sey,  "  it's  so  suddint.  What  will  the  neighbors 
say?  " 

"As  for  bein'  suddint,  Mrs.  Mcjimsey,  I've 
knowed  you  for  nearly  a  year,  and  now,  bein'  on 
the  way  to  leave  what's  been  my  happy  home,  I 
couldn't  keep  the  truth  from  you  no  longer. 
And  as  for  the  neighbors,  they  needn't  know  that 
we  hain't  been  engaged  for  months." 

"  It's  so  queer,  so  very  queer,"  said  the  little 
dressmaker.  And  her  face  flushed  again,  and 
there  were  tears,  not  at  all  sorrowful  ones,  in  her 
eyes ;  and  her  somewhat  needle-pricked  left  hand 
accidentally  laid  itself  upon  the  window-sill  in  easy 
reach  of  any  one  outside. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Rooper,  being  of  a 
practical  way  of  thinking,  turned  his  thoughts 
from  love  and  resentment  to  the  subject  of  his 
income.  And  he  soon  became  convinced  that  it 
would  be  better  to  keep  the  Mcjimseys  in  his 
house,  if  it  could  be  done  without  too  great  an 
outlay  for  repairs.  So  he  walked  over  to  his 
property.  When  he  reached  the  house  he  was 
almost  stupefied  to  see  Asaph  in  a  chair  in  the 
front  yard,  dressed  in  the  new  suit  of  clothes 


94  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

which  he,  Thomas  Rooper,  had  paid  for,  and 
smoking  the  Centennial  pipe. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Rooper,"  said  Asaph,  in 
a  loud  and  cheery  voice.  "  I  suppose  you've  come 
to  talk  to  Mrs.  Mcjimsey  about  the  work  you've 
got  to  do  here  to  make  this  house  fit  to  live  in. 
But  there  ain't  no  Mrs.  Mcjimsey.  She's  Mrs. 
Scantle  now,  and  I'm  your  tenant.  You  can  talk 
to  me." 

Doctor  Wicker  came  to  see  Mrs.  Himes  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  day  he  had  promised  to  come, 
and  early  in  the  autumn  they  were  married. 
Since  Asaph  Scantle  had  married  and  settled  he 
had  not  seen  his  sister  nor  spoken  to  her ;  but  he 
determined  that  on  so  joyful  an  occasion  as  this 
he  would  show  no  resentment.  So  he  attended 
the  wedding  in  the  village  church  dressed  in  the 
suit  of  clothes  which  had  belonged  to  the  late 
Mr.  Himes. 


:HIS  WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER" 


"HIS  WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER" 


T  is  now  five  years  since  an  event  oc 
curred  which  so  colored  my  life,  or 
rather  so  changed  some  of  its  original 
colors,  that  I  have  thought  it  well  to 
write  an  account  of  it,  deeming  that  its  lessons 
may  be  of  advantage  to  persons  whose  situations 
in  life  are  similar  to  my  own. 

When  I  was  quite  a  young  man  I  adopted  liter 
ature  as  a  profession ;  and  having  passed  through 
the  necessary  preparatory  grades,  I  found  myself, 
after  a  good  many  years  of  hard  and  often  unre- 
munerative  work,  in  possession  of  what  might  be 
called  a  fair  literary  practice.  My  articles,  grave, 
gay,  practical,  or  fanciful,  had  come  to  be  con 
sidered  with  a  favor  by  the  editors  of  the  various 
periodicals  for  which  I  wrote,  on  which  I  found 
in  time  I  could  rely  with  a  very  comfortable  cer 
tainty.  My  productions  created  no  enthusiasm  in 
the  reading  public ;  they  gave  me  no  great  repu 
tation  or  very  valuable  pecuniary  return  ;  but  they 


98  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

were  always  accepted,  and  my  receipts  from  them, 
at  the  time  to  which  I  have  referred,  were  as  regu 
lar  and  reliable  as  a  salary,  and  quite  sufficient  to 
give  me  more  than  a  comfortable  support. 

It  was  at  this  time  I  married.  I  had  been  en 
gaged  for  more  than  a  year,  but  had  not  been 
willing  to  assume  the  support  of  a  wife  until  I 
felt  that  my  pecuniary  position  was  so  assured 
that  I  could  do  so  with  full  satisfaction  to  my 
own  conscience.  There  was  now  no  doubt  in 
regard  to  this  position,  either  in  my  mind  or  in 
that  of  my  wife.  I  worked  with  great  steadiness 
and  regularity ;  I  knew  exactly  where  to  place  the 
productions  of  my  pen,  and  could  calculate,  with 
a  fair  degree  of  accuracy,  the  sums  I  should  re 
ceive  for  them.  We  were  by  no  means  rich ;  but 
we  had  enough,  and  were  thoroughly  satisfied  and 
content. 

Those  of  my  readers  who  are  married  will  have 
no  difficulty  in  remembering  the  peculiar  ecstasy 
of  the  first  weeks  of  their  wedded  life.  It  is 
then  that  the  flowers  of  this  world  bloom  bright 
est  ;  that  its  sun  is  the  most  genial ;  that  its  clouds 
are  the  scarcest ;  that  its  fruit  is  the  most  delicious ; 
that  the  air  is  the  most  balmy ;  that  its  cigars  are 
of  the  highest  flavor;  that  the  warmth  and  radi 
ance  of  early  matrimonial  felicity  so  rarefies  the 
intellectual  atmosphere  that  the  soul  mounts 
higher,  and  enjoys  a  wider  prospect,  than  ever 
before. 


"HIS   WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"        99 

These  experiences  were  mine.  The  plain  claret 
of  my  mind  was  changed  to  sparkling  champagne, 
and  at  the  very  height  of  its  effervescence  I  wrote 
a  story.  The  happy  thought  that  then  struck  me 
for  a  tale  was  of  a  very  peculiar  character ;  and  it 
interested  me  so  much  that  I  went  to  work  at  it 
with  great  delight  and  enthusiasm,  and  finished 
it  in  a  comparatively  short  time.  The  title  of  the 
story  was  "  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister";  and 
when  I  read  it  to  Hypatia  she  was  delighted  with 
it,  and  at  times  was  so  affected  by  its  pathos  that 
her  uncontrollable  emotion  caused  a  sympathetic 
dimness  in  my  eyes,  which  prevented  my  seeing 
the  words  I  had  written.  When  the  reading  was 
ended,  and  my  wife  had  dried  her  eyes,  she 
turned  to  me  and  said,  "  This  story  will  make 
your  fortune.  There  has  been  nothing  so  pa 
thetic  since  Lamartine's  '  History  of  a  Servant- 
girl.'" 

As  soon  as  possible  the  next  day  I  sent  my 
story  to  the  editor  of  the  periodical  for  which  I 
wrote  most  frequently,  and  in  which  my  best 
productions  generally  appeared.  In  a  few  days  I 
had  a  letter  from  the  editor,  in  which  he  praised 
my  story  as  he  had  never  before  praised  anything 
from  my  pen.  It  had  interested  and  charmed,  he 
said,  not  only  himself,  but  all  his  associates  in 
the  office.  Even  old  Gibson,  who  never  cared 
to  read  anything  until  it  was  in  proof,  and  who 
never  praised  anything  which  had  not  a  joke  in 


ioo  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

it,  was  induced  by  the  example  of  the  others  to 
read  this  manuscript,  and  shed,  as  he  asserted, 
the  first  tears  that  had  come  from  his  eyes  since 
his  final  paternal  castigation  some  forty  years  be 
fore.  The  story  would  appear,  the  editor  assured 
me,  as  soon  as  he  could  possibly  find  room  for  it. 

If  anything  could  make  our  skies  more  genial, 
our  flowers  brighter,  and  the  flavor  of  our  fruit 
and  cigars  more  delicious,  it  was  a  letter  like  this. 
And  when,  in  a  very  short  time,  the  story  was 
published,  we  found  that  the  reading  public  was 
inclined  to  receive  it  with  as  much  sympathetic 
interest  and  favor  as  had  been  shown  to  it  by 
the  editors.  My  personal  friends  soon  began  to 
express  enthusiastic  opinions  upon  it.  It  was 
highly  praised  in  many  of  the  leading  news 
papers  ;  and,  altogether,  it  was  a  great  literary 
success.  I  am  not  inclined  to  be  vain  of  my  writ 
ings,  and,  in  general,  my  wife  tells  me,  think  too 
little  of  them ;  but  I  did  feel  a  good  deal  of  pride 
and  satisfaction  in  the  success  of  "  His  Wife's 
Deceased  Sister."  If  it  did  not  make  my  fortune, 
as  my  wife  asserted  that  it  would,  it  certainly 
would  help  me  very  much  in  my  literary  career. 

In  less  than  a  month  from  the  writing  of  this 
story,  something  very  unusual  and  unexpected 
happened  to  me.  A  manuscript  was  returned  by 
the  editor  of  the  periodical  in  which  "  His  Wife's 
Deceased  Sister"  had  appeared.  "  It  is  a  good 
story,"  he  wrote,  "but  not  equal  to  what  you 


"HIS   WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"      101 

have  just  done.  You  have  made  a  great  hit ; 
and  it  would  not  do  to  interfere  with  the  reputa 
tion  you  have  gained  by  publishing  anything  in 
ferior  to  '  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister,'  which  has 
had  such  a  deserved  success." 

I  was  so  unaccustomed  to  having  my  work 
thrown  back  on  my  hands  that  I  think  I  must 
have  turned  a  little  pale  when  I  read  the  letter.  I 
said  nothing  of  the  matter  to  my  wife,  for  it  would 
be  foolish  to  drop  such  grains  of  sand  as  this  into 
the  smoothly  oiled  machinery  of  our  domestic 
felicity ;  but  I  immediately  sent  the  story  to  an 
other  editor.  I  am  not  able  to  express  the  as 
tonishment  I  felt  when,  in  the  course  of  a  week, 
it  was  sent  back  to  me.  The  tone  of  the  note  ac 
companying  it  indicated  a  somewhat  injured  feel 
ing  on  the  part  of  the  editor.  "  I  am  reluctant," 
he  said,  "  to  decline  a  manuscript  from  you;  but 
you  know  very  well  that  if  you  sent  me  anything 
like  '  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister '  it  would  be 
most  promptly  accepted." 

I  now  felt  obliged  to  speak  of  the  affair  to  my 
wife,  who  was  quite  as  much  surprised,  though, 
perhaps,  not  quite  as  much  shocked,  as  I  had 
been. 

"  Let  us  read  the  story  again,"  she  said,  "  and 
see  what  is  the  matter  with  it."  When  we  had 
finished  its  perusal,  Hypatia  remarked,  "It  is 
quite  as  good  as  many  of  the  stories  you  have 
had  printed,  and  I  think  it  very  interesting ;  al- 


102  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

though,  of  course,  it  is  not  equal  to  '  His  Wife's 
Deceased  Sister.' " 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  I ;  "  that  was  an  inspi 
ration  that  I  cannot  expect  every  day.  But  there 
must  be  something  wrong  about  this  last  story 
which  we  do  not  perceive.  Perhaps  my  recent 
success  may  have  made  me  a  little  careless  in 
writing  it." 

"  I  don't  believe  that,"  said  Hypatia. 

"At  any  rate,"  I  continued,  "I  will  lay  it 
aside,  and  will  go  to  work  on  a  new  one." 

In  due  course  of  time  I  had  another  manuscript 
finished,  and  I  sent  it  to  my  favorite  periodical. 
It  was  retained  some  weeks,  and  then  came  back 
to  me.  "  It  will  never  do,"  the  editor  wrote, 
quite  warmly,  "  for  you  to  go  backward.  The 
demand  for  the  number  containing  '  His  Wife's 
Deceased  Sister '  still  continues,  and  we  do  not 
intend  to  let  you  disappoint  that  great  body  of 
readers  who  would  be  so  eager  to  see  another 
number  containing  one  of  your  stories." 

I  sent  this  manuscript  to  four  other  periodicals, 
and  from  each  of  them  was  it  returned  with 
remarks  to  the  effect  that,  although  it  was  not  a 
bad  story  in  itself,  it  was  not  what  they  would  ex 
pect  from  the  author  of  "  His  Wife's  Deceased 
Sister." 

The  editor  of  a  Western  magazine  wrote  to  me 
for  a  story  to  be  published  in  a  special  number 
which  he  would  issue  for  the  holidays.  I  wrote 


"HIS    WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"      103 

him  one  of  the  character  and  length  he  asked  for, 
and  sent  it  to  him.  By  return  mail  it  came  back 
tome.  "  I  had  hoped, "  the  editor  wrote,  "when  I 
asked  for  a  story  from  your  pen,  to  receive  some 
thing  like  '  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister,'  and  I 
must  own  that  I  am  very  much  disappointed." 

I  was  so  filled  with  anger  when  I  read  this 
note  that  I  openly  objurgated  "  His  Wife's  De 
ceased  Sister."  "  You  must  excuse  me,"  I  said 
to  my  astonished  wife,  "  for  expressing  myself 
thus  in  your  presence ;  but  that  confounded  story 
will  be  the  ruin  of  me  yet.  Until  it  is  forgotten 
nobody  will  ever  take  anything  I  write." 

"And  you  cannot  expect  it  ever  to  be  forgot 
ten,"  said  Hypatia,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

It  is  needless  for  me  to  detail  my  literary  efforts 
in  the  course  of  the  next  few  months.  The  ideas 
of  the  editors  with  whom  my  principal  business 
had  been  done,  in  regard  to  my  literary  ability, 
had  been  so  raised  by  my  unfortunate  story  of 
"  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister  "  that  I  found  it  was 
of  no  use  to  send  them  anything  of  lesser  merit. 
And  as  to  the  other  journals  which  I  tried,  they 
evidently  considered  it  an  insult  for  me  to  send 
them  matter  inferior  to  that  by  which  my  reputa 
tion  had  lately  risen.  The  fact  was  that  my  suc 
cessful  story  had  ruined  me.  My  income  was  at 
end,  and  want  actually  stared  me  in  the  face ; 
and  I  must  admit  that  I  did  not  like  the  expres 
sion  of  its  countenance.  It  was  of  no  use  for  me 


io4  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

to  try  to  write  another  story  like  "  His  Wife's 
Deceased  Sister."  I  could  not  get  married  every 
time  I  began  a  new  manuscript,  and  it  was  the 
exaltation  of  mind  caused  by  my  wedded  felicity 
which  produced  that  story. 

"  It's  perfectly  dreadful!  "  said  my  wife.  "  If 
I  had  had  a  sister,  and  she  had  died,  I  would  have 
thought  it  was  my  fault." 

"  It  could  not  be  your  fault,"  I  answered,  "  and 
I  do  not  think  it  was  mine.  I  had  no  intention  of 
deceiving  anybody  into  the  belief  that  I  could  do 
that  sort  of  thing  every  time,  and  it  ought  not  to 
be  expected  of  me.  Suppose  Raphael's  patrons 
had  tried  to  keep  him  screwed  up  to  the  pitch  of 
the  Sistine  Madonna,  and  had  refused  to  buy  any 
thing  which  was  not  as  good  as  that.  In  that  case 
I  think  he  would  have  occupied  a  much  earlier  and 
narrower  grave  than  that  on  which  Mr.  Morris 
Moore  hangs  his  funeral  decorations." 

"  But,  my  dear,"  said  Hypatia,  who  was  posted 
on  such  subjects,  "  the  Sistine  Madonna  was  one 
of  his  latest  paintings." 

"  Very  true,"  said  I ;  "  but  if  he  had  married, 
as  I  did,  he  would  have  painted  it  earlier." 

I  was  walking  homeward  one  afternoon  about 
this  time,  when  I  met  Barbel  —  a  man  I  had 
known  well  in  my  early  literary  career.  He  was 
now  about  fifty  years  of  age,  but  looked  older. 
His  hair  and  beard  were  quite  gray;  and  his 
clothes,  which  were  of  the  same  general  hue, 


"HIS   WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"      105 

gave  me  the  idea  that  they,  like  his  hair,  had 
originally  been  black.  Age  is  very  hard  on  a 
man's  external  appointments.  Barbel  had  an  air 
of  having  been  to  let  for  a  long  time,  and  quite 
out  of  repair.  But  there  was  a  kindly  gleam  in 
his  eye,  and  he  welcomed  me  cordially. 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter,  old  fellow?"  said 
he.  "  I  never  saw  you  look  so  woebegone." 

I  had  no  reason  to  conceal  anything  from  Bar 
bel.  In  my  younger  days  he  had  been  of  great 
use  to  me,  and  he  had  a  right  to  know  the  state 
of  my  affairs.  I  laid  the  whole  case  plainly 
before  him. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  when  I  had  finished, 
"  come  with  me  to  my  room  :  I  have  something  I 
would  like  to  say  to  you  there." 

I  followed  Barbel  to  his  room.  It  was  at  the 
top  of  a  very  dirty  and  well-worn  house  -which 
stood  in  a  narrow  and  lumpy  street,  into  which 
few  vehicles  ever  penetrated,  except  the  ash  and 
garbage  carts,  and  the  rickety  wagons  of  the 
venders  of  stale  vegetables. 

"  This  is  not  exactly  a  fashionable  promenade," 
said  Barbel,  as  we  approached  the  house;  "but 
in  some  respects  it  reminds  me  of  the  streets  in 
Italian  towns,  where  the  palaces  lean  over  toward 
each  other  in  such  a  friendly  way." 

Barbel's  room  was,  to  my  mind,  rather  more 
doleful  than  the  street.  It  was  dark,  it  was 
dusty,  and  cobwebs  hung  from  every  corner. 


106  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

The  few  chairs  upon  the  floor  and  the  books 
upon  a  greasy  table  seemed  to  be  afflicted  with 
some  dorsal  epidemic,  for  their  backs  were  either 
gone  or  broken.  A  little  bedstead  in  the  corner 
was  covered  with  a  spread  made  of  New  York 
Heralds,  with  their  edges  pasted  together. 

"  There  is  nothing  better,"  said  Barbel,  notic 
ing  my  glance  toward  this  novel  counterpane,  "  for 
abed-covering  than  newspapers  :  they  keep  you  as 
warm  as  a  blanket,  and  are  much  lighter.  I  used 
to  use  Tribunes,  but  they  rattled  too  much." 

The  only  part  of  the  room  which  was  well 
lighted  was  at  one  end  near  the  solitary  window. 
Here,  upon  a  table  with  a  spliced  leg,  stood  a 
little  grindstone. 

"  At  the  other  end  of  the  room,"  said  Barbel, 
"  is  my  cook-stove,  which  you  can't  see  unless  I 
light  the  candle  in  the  bottle  which  stands  by  it ; 
but  if  you  don't  care  particularly  to  examine  it,  I 
won't  go  to  the  expense  of  lighting  up.  You 
might  pick  up  a  good  many  odd  pieces  of  bric-a- 
brac  around  here,  if  you  chose  to  strike  a  match 
and  investigate ;  but  I  would  not  advise  you  to  do 
so.  It  would  pay  better  to  throw  the  things  out 
of  the  window  than  to  carry  them  downstairs. 
The  particular  piece  of  indoor  decoration  to  which 
I  wish  to  call  your  attention  is  this."  And  he  led 
me  to  a  little  wooden  frame  which  hung  against 
the  wall  near  the  window.  Behind  a  dusty  piece 
of  glass  it  held  what  appeared  to  be  a  leaf  from  a 


"HIS   WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"      107 

small  magazine  or  journal.  "There,"  said  he, 
' '  you  see  a  page  from  the  Grasshopper,  a  humor 
ous  paper  which  flourished  in  this  city  some  half- 
dozen  years  ago.  I  used  to  write  regularly  for 
that  paper,  as  you  may  remember." 

"Oh  yes,  indeed!"  I  exclaimed.  "And  I 
shall  never  forget  your  '  Conundrum  of  the  Anvil ' 
which  appeared  in  it.  How  often  have  I  laughed 
at  that  most  wonderful  conceit,  and  how  often 
have  I  put  it  to  my  friends!  " 

Barbel  gazed  at  me  silently  for  a  moment,  and 
then  he  pointed  to  the  frame.  "  That  printed 
page,"  he  said,  solemnly,  "  contains  the  '  Conun 
drum  of  the  Anvil.'  I  hang  it  there  so  that  I  can 
see  it  while  I  work.  That  conundrum  ruined  me. 
It  was  the  last  thing  I  wrote  for  the  Grasshopper. 
How  I  ever  came  to  imagine  it  I  cannot  tell.  It 
is  one  of  those  things  which  occur  to  a  man  but 
once  in  a  lifetime.  After  the  wild  shout  of  delight 
with  which  the  public  greeted  that  conundrum, 
my  subsequent  efforts  met  with  hoots  of  derision. 
The  Grasshopper  turned  its  hind  legs  upon  me.  I 
sank  from  bad  to  worse  —  much  worse  —  until  at 
last  I  found  myself  reduced  to  my  present  occu 
pation,  which  is  that  of  grinding  points  to  pins. 
By  this  I  procure  my  bread,  coffee,  and  tobacco, 
and  sometimes  potatoes  and  meat.  One  day 
while  I  was  hard  at  work  an  organ-grinder  came 
into  the  street  below.  He  played  the  serenade 
from  "  Trovatore  "  ;  and  the  familiar  notes  brought 


io8  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

back  visions  of  old  days  and  old  delights,  when 
the  successful  writer  wore  good  clothes  and  sat  at 
operas,  when  he  looked  into  sweet  eyes  and  talked 
of  Italian  airs,  when  his  future  appeared  all  a  suc 
cession  of  bright  scenery  and  joyous  acts,  without 
any  provision  for  a  drop-curtain.  And  as  my  ear 
listened,  and  my  mind  wandered  in  this  happy 
retrospect,  my  every  faculty  seemed  exalted,  and, 
without  any  thought  upon  the  matter,  I  ground 
points  upon  my  pins  so  fine,  so  regular  and 
smooth,  that  they  would  have  pierced  with  ease 
the  leather  of  a  boot,  or  slipped  among,  without 
abrasion,  the  finest  threads  of  rare  old  lace. 
When  the  organ  stopped,  and  I  fell  back  into  my 
real  world  of  cobwebs  and  mustiness,  I  gazed 
upon  the  pins  I  had  just  ground,  and,  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  I  threw  them  into  the  street, 
and  reported  the  lot  as  spoiled.  This  cost  me  a 
little  money,  but  it  saved  me  my  livelihood." 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence,  Barbel  re 
sumed  : 

' '  I  have  no  more  to  say  to  you,  my  young  friend. 
All  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  look  upon  that  framed 
conundrum,  then  upon  this  grindstone,  and  then 
to  go  home  and  reflect.  As  for  me,  I  have  a  gross 
of  pins  to  grind  before  the  sun  goes  down." 

I  cannot  say  that  my  depression  of  mind  was  at 
all  relieved  by  what  I  had  seen  and  heard.  I  had 
lost  sight  of  Barbel  for  some  years,  and  I  had 
supposed  him  still  floating  on  the  sun-sparkling 


"HIS   WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"       109 

stream  of  prosperity  where  I  had  last  seen  him. 
It  was  a  great  shock  to  me  to  find  him  in  such  a 
condition  of  poverty  and  squalor,  and  to  see  a 
man  who  had  originated  the  "  Conundrum  of  the 
Anvil  "  reduced  to  the  soul-depressing  occupation 
of  grinding  pin-points.  As  I  walked  and  thought, 
the  dreadful  picture  of  a  totally  eclipsed  future 
arose  before  my  mind.  The  moral  of  Barbel  sank 
deep  into  my  heart. 

When  I  reached  home  I  told  my  wife  the  story 
of  my  friend  Barbel.  She  listened  with  a  sad  and 
eager  interest. 

"I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  "  if  our  fortunes  do 
net  quickly  mend,  that  we  shall  have  to  buy  two 
little  grindstones.  You  know  I  could  help  you 
at  that  sort  of  thing." 

For  a  long  time  we  sat  together  and  talked, 
and  devised  many  plans  for  the  future.  I  did 
not  think  it  necessary  yet  for  me  to  look  out  for 
a  pin-contract ;  but  I  must  find  some  way  of  mak 
ing  money,  or  we  should  starve  to  death.  Of 
course  the  first  thing  that  suggested  itself  was 
the  possibility  of  finding  some  other  business ; 
but,  apart  from  the  difficulty  of  immediately  ob 
taining  remunerative  work  in  occupations  to  which 
I  had  not  been  trained,  I  felt  a  great  and  natural 
reluctance  to  give  up  a  profession  for  which  I 
had  carefully  prepared  myself,  and  which  I  had 
adopted  as  my  life-work.  It  would  be  very 
hard  for  me  to  lay  clown  my  pen  forever,  and  to 


no  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

close  the  top  of  my  inkstand  upon  all  the  bright 
and  happy  fancies  which  I  had  seen  mirrored  in 
its  tranquil  pool.  We  talked  and  pondered  the 
rest  of  that  day  and  a  good  deal  of  the  night,  but 
we  came  to  no  conclusion  as  to  what  it  would  be 
best  for  us  to  do. 

The  next  day  I  determined  to  go  and  call  upon 
the  editor  of  the  journal  for  which,  in  happier 
days,  before  the  blight  of  "  His  Wife's  Deceased 
Sister  "  rested  upon  me,  I  used  most  frequently 
to  write,  and,  having  frankly  explained  my  con 
dition  to  him,  to  ask  his  advice.  The  editor  was 
a  good  man,  and  had  always  been  my  friend. 
He  listened  with  great  attention  to  what  I  told 
him,  and  evidently  sympathized  with  me  in  my 
trouble. 

"As  we  have  written  to  you,"  he  said,  "the 
only  reason  why  we  did  not  accept  the  manu 
scripts  you  sent  us  was  that  they  would  have 
disappointed  the  high  hopes  that  the  public  had 
formed  in  regard  to  you.  We  have  had  letter 
after  letter  asking  when  we  were  going  to  publish 
another  story  like  '  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister.' 
We  felt,  and  we  still  feel,  that  it  would  be  wrong 
to  allow  you  to  destroy  the  fair  fabric  which  your 
self  has  raised.  But,"  he  added,  with  a  kind 
smile,  "  I  see  very  plainly  that  your  well-de 
served  reputation  will  be  of  little  advantage  to 
you  if  you  should  starve  at  the  moment  that  its 
genial  beams  are,  so  to  speak,  lighting  you  up." 


"HIS   WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"      in 

"  Its  beams  are  not  genial,"  I  answered. 
"  They  have  scorched  and  withered  me." 

"  How  would  you  like,"  said  the  editor,  after 
a  short  reflection,  "  to  allow  us  to  publish  the 
stories  you  have  recently  written  under  some  other 
name  than  your  own?  That  would  satisfy  us  and 
the  public,  would  put  money  in  your  pocket,  and 
would  not  interfere  with  your  reputation." 

Joyfully  I  seized  that  noble  fellow  by  the  hand, 
and  instantly  accepted  his  proposition.  "  Of 
course,"  said  I,  "  a  reputation  is  a  very  good 
thing ;  but  no  reputation  can  take  the  place  of 
food,  clothes,  and  a  house  to  live  in ;  and  I 
gladly  agree  to  sink  my  over-illumined  name 
into  oblivion,  and  to  appear  before  the  public  as 
a  new  and  unknown  writer." 

"  I  hope  that  need  not  be  for  long,"  he  said, 
"  for  I  feel  sure  that  you  will  yet  write  stories  as 
good  as  '  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister.'  " 

All  the  manuscripts  I  had  on  hand  I  now  sent 
to  my  good  friend  the  editor,  and  in  due  and 
proper  order  they  appeared  in  his  journal  under 
the  name  of  John  Darmstadt,  which  I  had  se 
lected  as  a  substitute  for  my  own,  permanently 
disabled.  I  made  a  similar  arrangement  with 
other  editors,  and  John  Darmstadt  received  the 
credit  of  everything  that  proceeded  from  my  pen. 
Our  circumstances  now  became  very  comfortable, 
and  occasionally  we  even  allowed  ourselves  to 
indulge  in  little  dreams  of  prosperity. 


ii2  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

Time  passed  on  very  pleasantly  ;  one  year,  an 
other,  and  then  a  little  son  was  born  to  us.  It  is 
often  difficult,  I  believe,  for  thoughtful  persons 
to  decide  whether  the  beginning  of  their  conjugal 
career,  or  the  earliest  weeks  in  the  life  of  their 
first-born,  be  the  happiest  and  proudest  period  of 
their  existence.  For  myself  I  can  only  say  that 
the  same  exaltation  of  mind,  the  same  rarefication 
of  idea  and  invention,  which  succeeded  upon  my 
wedding-day  came  upon  me  now.  As  then,  my 
ecstatic  emotions  crystallized  themselves  into  a 
motive  for  a  story,  and  without  delay  I  set  myself 
to  work  upon  it.  My  boy  was  about  six  weeks 
old  when  the  manuscript  was  finished ;  and  one 
evening,  as  we  sat  before  a  comfortable  fire  in 
our  sitting-room,  with  the  curtains  drawn,  and 
the  soft  lamp  lighted,  and  the  baby  sleeping 
soundly  in  the  adjoining  chamber,  I  read  the 
story  to  my  wife. 

When  I  had  finished,  my  wife  arose  and  threw 
herself  into  my  arms.  "  I  was  never  so  proud 
of  you,"  she  said,  her  glad  eyes  sparkling,  "  as 
I  am  at  this  moment.  That  is  a  wonderful  story! 
It  is  —  indeed  I  am  sure  it  is  —  just  as  good  as 
'  His  Wife's  Deceased  Sister.'  " 

As  she  spoke  these  words  a  sudden  and  chilling 
sensation  crept  over  us  both.  All  her  warmth  and 
fervor,  and  the  proud  and  happy  glow  engendered 
within  me  by  this  praise  and  appreciation  from 
one  I  loved,  vanished  in  an  instant.  We  stepped 


"HIS    WIFE'S  DECEASED  SISTER"      113 

apart,  and  gazed  upon  each  other  with  pallid 
faces.  In  the  same  moment  the  terrible  truth 
had  flashed  upon  us  both. 

This  story  was  as  good  as  "  His  Wife's  De 
ceased  Sister  "! 

We  stood  silent.  The  exceptional  lot  of  Bar 
bel's  superpointed  pins  seemed  to  pierce  our  very 
souls.  A  dreadful  vision  rose  before  me  of  an 
impending  fall  and  crash,  in  which  our  domestic 
happiness  should  vanish,  and  our  prospects  for 
our  boy  be  wrecked,  just  as  we  had  begun  to 
build  them  up. 

My  wife  approached  me  and  took  my  hand  in 
hers,  which  was  as  cold  as  ice.  "  Be  strong  and 
firm,"  she  said.  "  A  great  danger  threatens  us, 
but  you  must  brace  yourself  against  it.  Be 
strong  and  firm." 

I  pressed  her  hand,  and  we  said  no  more  that 
night. 

The  next  day  I  took  the  manuscript  I  had  just 
written,  and  carefully  infolded  it  in  stout  wrap 
ping-paper.  Then  I  went  to  a  neighboring 
grocery-store  and  bought  a  small,  strong  tin 
box,  originally  intended  for  biscuit,  with  a  cover 
that  fitted  tightly.  In  this  I  placed  my  manu 
script  ;  and  then  I  took  the  box  to  a  tinsmith  and 
had  the  top  fastened  on  with  hard  solder.  When 
I  went  home  I  ascended  into  the  garret,  and 
brought  down  to  my  study  a  ship's  cash-box, 
which  had  once  belonged  to  one  of  my  family 


n4  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

who  was  a  sea-captain.  This  box  was  very 
heavy,  and  firmly  bound  with  iron,  and  was  se 
cured  by  two  massive  locks.  Calling  my  wife,  I 
told  her  of  the  contents  of  the  tin  case,  which  I 
then  placed  in  the  box,  and,  having  shut  down 
the  heavy  lid,  I  doubly  locked  it. 

"  This  key,"  said  I,  putting  it  in  my  pocket, 
"  I  shall  throw  into  the  river  when  I  go  out  this 
afternoon." 

My  wife  watched  me  eagerly,  with  a  pallid  and 
firm,  set  countenance,  but  upon  which  I  could  see 
the  faint  glimmer  of  returning  happiness. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  well,"  she  said,  "  to  secure  it 
still  further  by  sealing-wax  and  pieces  of  tape?  " 

"  No,"  said  I.  "I  do  not  believe  that  any  one 
will  attempt  to  tamper  with  our  prosperity.  And 
now,  my  dear,"  I  continued,  in  an  impressive 
voice,  "  no  one  but  you,  and,  in  the  course  of 
time,  our  son,  shall  know  that  this  manuscript 
exists.  When  I  am  dead,  those  who  survive  me 
may,  if  they  see  fit,  cause  this  box  to  be  split 
open  and  the  story  published.  The  reputation  it 
may  give  my  name  cannot  harm  me  then." 


THE    LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER? 


THE    LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER  ? 


X  the  very  olden  time  there  lived  a  semi- 
barbaric  king,  whose  ideas,  though 
somewhat  polished  and  sharpened  by 
the  progressiveness  of  distant  Latin 
neighbors,  were  still  large,  florid,  and  untram 
melled,  as  became  the  half  of  him  which  was 
barbaric.  He  was  a  man  of  exuberant  fancy, 
and,  withal,  of  an  authority  so  irresistible  that, 
at  his  will,  he  turned  his  varied  fancies  into  facts. 
He  was  greatly  given  to  self-communing;  and 
when  he  and  himself  agreed  upon  anything,  the 
thing  was  done.  When  every  member  of  his 
domestic  and  political  systems  moved  smoothly 
in  its  appointed  course,  his  nature  was  bland  and 
genial ;  but  whenever  there  was  a  little  hitch, 
and  some  of  his  orbs  got  out  of  their  orbits,  he 
was  blander  and  more  genial  still,  for  nothing 
pleased  him  so  much  as  to  make  the  crooked 
straight,  and  crush  down  uneven  places. 

Among  the  borrowed  notions  by  which  his  bar- 


n8  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

barism  had  become  semified  was  that  of  the  pub 
lic  arena,  in  which,  by  exhibitions  of  manly  and 
beastly  valor,  the  minds  of  his  subjects  were  re 
fined  and  cultured. 

But  even  here  the  exuberant  and  barbaric  fancy 
asserted  itself.  The  arena  of  the  king  was  built 
not  to  give  the  people  an  opportunity  of  hearing 
the  rhapsodies  of  dying  gladiators,  nor  to  enable 
them  to  view  the  inevitable  conclusion  of  a  con 
flict  between  religious  opinions  and  hungry  jaws, 
but  for  purposes  far  better  adapted  to  widen  and 
develop  the  mental  energies  of  the  people.  This 
vast  amphitheatre,  with  its  encircling  galleries, 
its  mysterious  vaults,  and  its  unseen  passages, 
was  an  agent  of  poetic  justice,  in  which  crime 
was  punished,  or  virtue  rewarded,  by  the  decrees 
of  an  impartial  and  incorruptible  chance. 

When  a  subject  was  accused  of  a  crime  of  suffi 
cient  importance  to  interest  the  king,  public  notice 
was  given  that  on  an  appointed  day  the  fate  of  the 
accused  person  would  be  decided  in  the  king's 
arena — a  structure  which  well  deserved  its  name ; 
for,  although  its  form  and  plan  were  borrowed 
from  afar,  its  purpose  emanated  solely  from  the 
brain  of  this  man,  who,  every  barleycorn  a  king, 
knew  no  tradition  to  which  he  owed  more  alle 
giance  than  pleased  his  fancy,  and  who  ingrafted 
on  every  adopted  form  of  human  thought  and 
action  the  rich  growth  of  his  barbaric  idealism. 

When  all  the  people  had  assembled  in  the  gal- 


THE  LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER?  119 

leries,  and  the  king,  surrounded  by  his  court,  sat 
high  up  on  his  throne  of  royal  state  on  one  side 
of  the  arena,  he  gave  a  signal,  a  door  beneath 
him  opened,  and  the  accused  subject  stepped  out 
into  the  amphitheatre.  Directly  opposite  him, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  enclosed  space,  were  two 
doors,  exactly  alike  and  side  by  side.  It  was 
the  duty  and  the  privilege  of  the  person  on  trial 
to  walk  directly  to  these  doors  and  open  one  of 
them.  He  could  open  either  door  he  pleased :  he 
was  subject  to  no  guidance  or  influence  but  that 
of  the  afore-mentioned  impartial  and  incorruptible 
chance.  If  he  opened  the  one,  there  came  out  of 
it  a  hungry  tiger,  the  fiercest  and  most  cruel  that 
could  be  procured,  which  immediately  sprang 
upon  him  and  tore  him  to  pieces,  as  a  punish 
ment  for  his  guilt.  The  moment  that  the  case  of 
the  criminal  was  thus  decided,  doleful  iron  bells 
were  clanged,  great  wails  went  up  from  the  hired 
mourners  posted  on  the  outer  rim  of  the  arena, 
and  the  vast  audience,  with  bowed  heads  and 
downcast  hearts,  wended  slowly  their  homeward 
way,  mourning  greatly  that  one  so  young  and 
fair,  or  so  old  and  respected,  should  have  merited 
so  dire  a  fate. 

But  if  the  accused  person  opened  the  other 
door,  there  came  forth  from  it  a  lady,  the  most 
suitable  to  his  years  and  station  that  his  Majesty 
could  select  among  his  fair  subjects ;  and  to  this 
lady  he  was  immediately  married,  as  a  reward  of 


120  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

his  innocence.  It  mattered  not  that  he  might  al 
ready  possess  a  wife  and  family,  or  that  his  affec 
tions  might  be  engaged  upon  an  object  of  his  own 
selection :  the  king  allowed  no  such  subordinate 
arrangements  to  interfere  with  his  great  scheme 
of  retribution  and  reward.  The  exercises,  as  in 
the  other  instance,  took  place  immediately,  and 
in  the  arena.  Another  door  opened  beneath  the 
king,  and  a  priest,  followed  by  a  band  of  choris 
ters,  and  dancing  maidens  blowing  joyous  airs  on 
golden  horns  and  treading  an  epithalamic  measure, 
advanced  to  where  the  pair  stood  side  by  side ;  and 
the  wedding  was  promptly  and  cheerily  solem 
nized.  Then  the  gay  brass  bells  rang  forth  their 
merry  peals,  the  people  shouted  glad  hurrahs,  and 
the  innocent  man,  preceded  by  children  strewing 
flowers  on  his  path,  led  his  bride  to  his  home. 

This  was  the  king's  semibarbaric  method  of  ad 
ministering  justice.  Its  perfect  fairness  is  ob 
vious.  The  criminal  could  not  know  out  of 
which  door  would  come  the  lady :  he  opened 
either  he  pleased,  without  having  the  slightest 
idea  whether,  in  the  next  instant,  he  was  to  be 
devoured  or  married.  On  some  occasions  the 
tiger  came  out  of  one  door,  and  on  some  out  of 
the  other.  The  decisions  of  this  tribunal  were 
not  only  fair,  they  were  positively  determinate : 
the  accused  person  was  instantly  punished  if  he 
found  himself  guilty ;  and  if  innocent,  he  was 
rewarded  on  the  spot,  whether  he  liked  it  or  not. 


THE  LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER?  121 

There  was  no  escape  from  the  judgments  of  the 
king's  arena. 

The  institution  was  a  very  popular  one.  When 
the  people  gathered  together  on  one  of  the  great 
trial-days,  they  never  knew  whether  they  were  to 
witness  a  bloody  slaughter  or  a  hilarious  wedding. 
This  element  of  uncertainty  lent  an  interest  to 
the  occasion  which  it  could  not  otherwise  have 
attained.  Thus  the  masses  were  entertained  and 
pleased,  and  the  thinking  part  of  the  community 
could  bring  no  charge  of  unfairness  against  this 
plan ;  for  did  not  the  accused  person  have  the 
whole  matter  in  his  own  hands  ? 

This  semibarbaric  king  had  a  daughter  as 
blooming  as  his  most  florid  fancies,  and  with  a 
soul  as  fervent  and  imperious  as  his  own.  As  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  she  was  the  apple  of  his  eye, 
and  was  loved  by  him  above  all  humanity.  Among 
his  courtiers  was  a  young  man  of  that  fineness 
of  blood  and  lowness  of  station  common  to  the 
conventional  heroes  of  romance  who  love  royal 
maidens.  This  royal  maiden  was  well  satisfied 
with  her  lover,  for  he  was  handsome  and  brave 
to  a  degree  unsurpassed  in  all  this  kingdom  ;  and 
she  loved  him  with  an  ardor  that  had  enough  of 
barbarism  in  it  to  make  it  exceedingly  warm  and 
strong.  This  love-affair  moved  on  happily  for 
many  months,  until  one  day  the  king  happened 
to  discover  its  existence.  He  did  not  hesitate 
nor  waver  in  regard  to  his  duty  in  the  premises. 


122  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

The  youth  was  immediately  cast  into  prison,  and 
a  day  was  appointed  for  his  trial  in  the  king's 
arena.  This,  of  course,  was  an  especially  im 
portant  occasion ;  and  his  Majesty,  as  well  as  all 
the  people,  was  greatly  interested  in  the  workings 
and  development  of  this  trial.  Never  before  had 
such  a  case  occurred ;  never  before  had  a  subject 
dared  to  love  the  daughter  of  a  king.  In  after- 
years  such  things  became  commonplace  enough ; 
but  then  they  were,  in  no  slight  degree,  novel 
and  startling. 

The  tiger-cages  of  the  kingdom  were  searched 
for  the  most  savage  and  relentless  beasts,  from 
which  the  fiercest  monster  might  be  selected  for 
the  arena;  and  the  ranks  of  maiden  youth  and 
beauty  throughout  the  land  were  carefully  sur 
veyed  by  competent  judges,  in  order  that  the 
young  man  might  have  a  fitting  bride  in  case  fate 
did  not  determine  for  him  a  different  destiny.  Of 
course  everybody  knew  that  the  deed  with  which 
the  accused  was  charged  had  been  done.  He  had 
loved  the  princess,  and  neither  he,  she,  nor  any 
one  else  thought  of  denying  the  fact ;  but  the  king 
would  not  think  of  allowing  any  fact  of  this  kind 
to  interfere  with  the  workings  of  the  tribunal,  in 
which  he  took  such  great  delight  and  satisfaction. 
No  matter  how  the  affair  turned  out,  the  youth 
would  be  disposed  of;  and  the  king  would  take 
an  aesthetic  pleasure  in  watching  the  course  of 
events,  which  would  determine  whether  or  not 


THE  LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER?  123 

the  young  man  had  done  wrong  in  allowing  him 
self  to  love  the  princess. 

The  appointed  day  arrived.  From  far  and 
near  the  people  gathered,  and  thronged  the  great 
galleries  of  the  arena ;  and  crowds,  unable  to  gain 
admittance,  massed  themselves  against  its  outside 
walls.  The  king  and  his  court  were  in  their 
places,  opposite  the  twin  doors  —  those  fateful 
portals,  so  terrible  in  their  similarity. 

All  was  ready.  The  signal  was  given.  A  door 
beneath  the  royal  party  opened,  and  the  lover  of 
the  princess  walked  into  the  arena.  Tall,  beauti 
ful,  fair,  his  appearance  was  greeted  with  a  low 
hum  of  admiration  and  anxiety.  Half  the  audi 
ence  had  not  known  so  grand  a  youth  had  lived 
among  them.  No  wonder  the  princess  loved  him ! 
What  a  terrible  thing  for  him  to  be  there! 

As  the  youth  advanced  into  the  arena,  he  turned, 
as  the  custom  was,  to  bow  to  the  king :  but  he  did 
not  think  at  all  of  that  royal  personage ;  his  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  the  princess,  who  sat  to  the  right 
of  her  father.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  moiety  of 
barbarism  in  her  nature  it  is  probable  that  lady 
would  not  have  been  there ;  but  her  intense  and 
fervid  soul  would  not  allow  her  to  be  absent  on  an 
occasion  in  which  she  was  so  terribly  interested. 
From  the  moment  that  the  decree  had  gone  forth 
that  her  lover  should  decide  his  fate  in  the  king's 
arena,  she  had  thought  of  nothing,  night  or  clay, 
but  this  great  event  and  the  various  subjects  con- 


i24  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

nected  with  it.  Possessed  of  more  power,  influ 
ence,  and  force  of  character  than  any  one  who  had 
ever  before  been  interested  in  such  a  case,  she  had 
done  what  no  other  person  had  done — she  had 
possessed  herself  of  the  secret  of  the  doors.  She 
knew  in  which  of  the  two  rooms  that  lay  behind 
those  doors  stood  the  cage  of  the  tiger,  with  its 
open  front,  and  in  which  waited  the  lady.  Through 
these  thick  doors,  heavily  curtained  with  skins  on 
the  inside,  it  was  impossible  that  any  noise  or 
suggestion  should  come  from  within  to  the  per 
son  who  should  approach  to  raise  the  latch 
of  one  of  them ;  but  gold,  and  the  power  of  a 
woman's  will,  had  brought  the  secret  to  the 
princess. 

And  not  only  did  she  know  in  which  room  stood 
the  lady  ready  to  emerge,  all  blushing  and  radiant, 
should  her  door  be  opened,  but  she  knew  who  the 
lady  was.  It  was  one  of  the  fairest  and  loveliest 
of  the  damsels  of  the  court  who  had  been  selected 
as  the  reward  of  the  accused  youth,  should  he  be 
proved  innocent  of  the  crime  of  aspiring  to  one  so 
far  above  him  ;  and  the  princess  hated  her.  Often 
had  she  seen,  or  imagined  that  she  had  seen,  this 
fair  creature  throwing  glances  of  admiration  upon 
the  person  of  her  lover,  and  sometimes  she  thought 
these  glances  were  perceived  and  even  returned. 
Now  and  then  she  had  seen  them  talking  together ; 
it  was  but  for  a  moment  or  two,  but  much  can  be 
said  in  a  brief  space ;  it  may  have  been  on  most 


THE  LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER?  125 

unimportant  topics,  but  how  could  she  know  that? 
The  girl  was  lovely,  but  she  had  dared  to  raise 
her  eyes  to  the  loved  one  of  the  princess ;  and, 
with  all  the  intensity  of  the  savage  blood  trans 
mitted  to  her  through  long  lines  of  wholly  barbaric 
ancestors,  she  hated  the  woman  who  blushed  and 
trembled  behind  that  silent  door. 

When  her  lover  turned  and  looked  at  her,  and 
his  eye  met  hers  as  she  sat  there  paler  and  whiter 
than  any  one  in  the  vast  ocean  of  anxious  faces 
about  her,  he  saw,  by  that  power  of  quick  percep 
tion  which  is  given  to  those  whose  souls  are  one, 
that  she  knew  behind  which  door  crouched  the 
tiger,  and  behind  which  stood  the  lady.  He  had 
expected  her  to  know  it.  lie  understood  her  na 
ture,  and  his  soul  was  assured  that  she  would  never 
rest  until  she  had  made  plain  to  herself  this  thing, 
hidden  to  all  other  lookers-on,  even  to  the  king. 
The  only  hope  for  the  youth  in  which  there  was 
any  element  of  certainty  was  based  upon  the  suc 
cess  of  the  princess  in  discovering  this  mystery ; 
and  the  moment  he  looked  upon  her,  he  saw  she 
had  succeeded,  as  in  his  soul  he  knew  she  would 
succeed. 

Then  it  was  that  his  quick  and  anxious  glance 
asked  the  question,  "  Which?  "  It  was  as  plain 
to  her  as  if  he  shouted  it  from  where  he  stood. 
There  was  not  an  instant  to  be  lost.  The  ques 
tion  was  asked  in  a  flash ;  it  must  be  answered  in 
another. 


126  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

Her  right  arm  lay  on  the  cushioned  parapet  be 
fore  her.  She  raised  her  hand,  and  made  a  slight, 
quick  movement  toward  the  right.  No  one  but 
her  lover  saw  her.  Every  eye  but  his  was  fixed 
on  the  man  in  the  arena. 

He  turned,  and  with  a  firm  and  rapid  step  he 
walked  across  the  empty  space.  Every  heart 
stopped  beating,  every  breath  was  held,  every 
eye  was  fixed  immovably  upon  that  man.  With 
out  the  slightest  hesitation,  he  went  to  the  door 
on  the  right,  and  opened  it. 

Now,  the  point  of  the  story  is  this :  Did  the 
tiger  come  out  of  that  door,  or  did  the  lady  ? 

The  more  we  reflect  upon  this  question  the 
harder  it  is  to  answer.  It  involves  a  study  of 
the  human  heart  which  leads  us  through  devious 
mazes  of  passion,  out  of  which  it  is  difficult  to 
find  our  way.  Think  of  it,  fair  reader,  not  as  if 
the  decision  of  the  question  depended  upon  your 
self,  but  upon  that  hot-blooded,  semibarbaric  prin 
cess,  her  soul  at  a  white  heat  beneath  the  combined 
fires  of  despair  and  jealousy.  She  had  lost  him, 
but  who  should  have  him? 

How  often,  in  her  waking  hours  and  in  her 
dreams,  had  she  started  in  wild  horror  and  cov 
ered  her  face  with  her  hands  as  she  thought  of 
her  lover  opening  the  door  on  the  other  side  of 
which  waited  the  cruel  fangs  of  the  tiger! 

But  how  much  oftener  had  she  seen  him  at  the 


THE  LADY,  OR   THE   TIGER?  127 

other  door!  How  in  her  grievous  reveries  had 
she  gnashed  her  teeth  and  torn  her  hair  when  she 
saw  his  start  of  rapturous  delight  as  he  opened  the 
door  of  the  lady!  How  her  soul  had  burned  in 
agony  when  she  had  seen  him  rush  to  meet  that 
woman,  with  her  flushing  cheek  and  sparkling 
eye  of  triumph ;  when  she  had  seen  him  lead  her 
forth,  his  whole  frame  kindled  with  the  joy  of  re 
covered  life ;  when  she  had  heard  the  glad  shouts 
from  the  multitude,  and  the  wild  ringing  of  the 
happy  bells ;  when  she  had  seen  the  priest,  with 
his  joyous  followers,  advance  to  the  couple,  and 
make  them  man  and  wife  before  her  very  eyes ; 
and  when  she  had  seen  them  walk  away  together 
upon  their  path  of  flowers,  followed  by  the  tre 
mendous  shouts  of  the  hilarious  multitude,  in 
which  her  one  despairing  shriek  was  lost  and 
drowned! 

Would  it  not  be  better  for  him  to  die  at  once, 
and  go  to  wait  for  her  in  the  blessed  regions  of 
semibarbaric  futurity? 

And  yet,  that  awful  tiger,  those  shrieks,  that 
blood! 

Her  decision  had  been  indicated  in  an  instant, 
but  it  had  been  made  after  days  and  nights  of 
anguished  deliberation.  She  had  known  she 
would  be  asked,  she  had  decided  what  she  would 
answer,  and,  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  she 
had  moved  her  hand  to  the  right. 

The  question  of  her  decision  is  one  not  to  be 


128  A    CHOSEN  FEU' 

lightly  considered,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  presume 
to  set  myself  up  as  the  one  person  able  to  answer 
it.  And  so  I  leave  it  with  all  of  you :  Which 
came  out  of  the  opened  door — the  lady,  or  the 
tiger? 


THE  REMARKABLE  WRECK  OF 
THE  "THOMAS  HYKE " 


THE  REMARKABLE  WRECK  OF 
THE  "THOMAS  HYKE  " 


T  was  half-past  one  by  the  clock  in  the 
office  of  the  Registrar  of  Woes.  The 
room  was  empty,  for  it  was  Wednes 
day,  and  the  Registrar  always  went 
home  early  on  Wednesday  afternoons.  He  had 
made  that  arrangement  when  he  accepted  the 
office.  He  was  willing  to  serve  his  fellow- 
citizens  in  any  suitable  position  to  which  he 
might  be  called,  but  he  had  private  interests 
which  could  not  be  neglected.  He  belonged  to 
his  country,  but  there  was  a  house  in  the  country 
which  belonged  to  him ;  and  there  were  a  great 
many  things  appertaining  to  that  house  which 
needed  attention,  especially  in  pleasant  summer 
weather.  It  is  true  he  was  often  absent  on  after 
noons  which  did  not  fall  on  the  Wednesday,  but 
the  fact  of  his  having  appointed  a  particular  time 
for  the  furtherance  of  his  outside  interests  so  em- 


1 32  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

phasized  their  importance  that  his  associates  in 
the  office  had  no  difficulty  in  understanding  that 
affairs  of  such  moment  could  not  always  be  at 
tended  to  in  a  single  afternoon  of  the  week. 

But  although  the  large  room  devoted  to  the 
especial  use  of  the  Registrar  was  unoccupied, 
there  were  other  rooms  connected  with  it  which 
were  not  in  that  condition.  With  the  suite  of 
offices  to  the  left  we  have  nothing  to  do,  but  will 
confine  our  attention  to  a  moderate-sized  room  to 
the  right  of  the  Registrar's  office,  and  connected 
by  a  door,  now  closed,  with  that  large  and  hand 
somely  furnished  chamber.  This  was  the  office 
of  the  Clerk  of  Shipwrecks,  and  it  was  at  present 
occupied  by  five  persons.  One  of  these  was  the 
clerk  himself,  a  man  of  goodly  appearance,  some 
where  between  twenty-five  and  forty-five  years  of 
age,  and  of  a  demeanor  such  as  might  be  supposed 
to  belong  to  one  who  had  occupied  a  high  posi 
tion  in  state  affairs,  but  who,  by  the  cabals  of  his 
enemies,  had  been  forced  to  resign  the  great  opera 
tions  of  statesmanship  which  he  had  been  direct 
ing,  and  who  now  stood,  with  a  quite  resigned  air, 
pointing  out  to  the  populace  the  futile  and  dis 
astrous  efforts  of  the  incompetent  one  who  was 
endeavoring  to  fill  his  place.  The  Clerk  of  Ship 
wrecks  had  never  fallen  from  such  a  position, 
having  never  occupied  one,  but  he  had  acquired 
the  demeanor  referred  to  without  going  through 
the  preliminary  exercises. 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     133 

Another  occupant  was  a  very  young  man,  the 
personal  clerk  of  the  Registrar  of  Woes,  who 
always  closed  all  the  doors  of  the  office  of  that 
functionary  on  Wednesday  afternoons,  and  at 
other  times  when  outside  interests  demanded  his 
principal's  absence,  after  which  he  betook  himself 
to  the  room  of  his  friend  the  Shipwreck  Clerk. 

Then  there  was  a  middle-aged  man  named 
Mathers,  also  a  friend  of  the  clerk,  and  who  was 
one  of  the  eight  who  had  made  application  for  a 
subposition  in  this  department,  which  was  now 
filled  by  a  man  who  was  expected  to  resign  when 
a  friend  of  his,  a  gentleman  of  influence  in  an  in 
terior  county,  should  succeed  in  procuring  the 
nomination  as  congressional  Representative  of  his 
district  of  an  influential  politician,  whose  election 
was  considered  assured  in  case  certain  expected 
action  on  the  part  of  the  administration  should 
bring  his  party  into  power.  The  person  now  oc 
cupying  the  subposition  hoped  then  to  get  some 
thing  better,  and  Mathers,  consequently,  was 
very  willing,  while  waiting  for  the  place,  to  visit 
the  offices  of  the  department  and  acquaint  himself 
with  its  duties. 

A  fourth  person  was  J.  George  Watts,  a  jury 
man  by  profession,  who  had  brought  with  him 
his  brother-in-law,  a  stranger  in  the  city. 

The  Shipwreck  Clerk  had  taken  off  his  good 
coat,  which  he  had  worn  to  luncheon,  and  had 
replaced  it  by  a  lighter  garment  of  linen,  much 


134 


CHOSEN  FEW 


bespattered  with  ink  ;  and  he  now  produced  a 
cigar-box,  containing  six  cigars. 

"  Gents,"  said  he,  "  here  is  the  fag  end  of  a 
box  of  cigars.  It's  not  like  having  the  pick  of  a 
box,  but  they  are  all  I  have  left." 

Mr.  Mathers,  J.  George  Watts,  and  the  brother- 
in-law  each  took  a  cigar  with  that  careless  yet  def 
erential  manner  which  always  distinguishes  the 
treatee  from  the  treator  ;  and  then  the  box  was 
protruded  in  an  offhand  way  toward  Harry 
Covare,  the  personal  clerk  of  the  Registrar;  but 
this  young  man  declined,  saying  that  he  preferred 
cigarettes,  a  package  of  which  he  drew  from  his 
pocket.  He  had  very  often  seen  that  cigar-box 
with  a  Havana  brand,  which  he  himself  had 
brought  from  the  other  room  after  the  Registrar 
had  emptied  it,  passed  around  with  six  cigars,  no 
more  nor  less,  and  he  was  wise  enough  to  know 
that  the  Shipwreck  Clerk  did  not  expect  to  supply 
him  with  smoking-material.  If  that  gentleman 
had  offered  to  the  friends  who  generally  dropped 
in  on  him  on  Wednesday  afternoon  the  paper 
bag  of  cigars  sold  at  five  cents  each  when  bought 
singly,  but  half  a  dozen  for  a  quarter  of  a  dollar, 
they  would  have  been  quite  as  thankfully  re 
ceived  ;  but  it  better  pleased  his  deprecative  soul 
to  put  them  in  an  empty  cigar  -box,  and  thus  throw 
around  them  the  halo  of  the  presumption  that 
ninety-four  of  their  imported  companions  had 
been  smoked. 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     135 

The  Shipwreck  Clerk,  having  lighted  a  cigar 
for  himself,  sat  down  in  his  revolving  chair, 
turned  his  back  to  his  desk,  and  threw  himself 
into  an  easy  cross-legged  attitude,  which  showed 
that  he  was  perfectly  at  home  in  that  office.  Harry 
Covare  mounted  a  high  stool,  while  the  visitors 
seated  themselves  in  three  wooden  arm-chairs. 
But  few  words  had  been  said,  and  each  man  had 
scarcely  tossed  his  first  tobacco-ashes  on  the 
floor,  when  some  one  wearing  heavy  boots  was 
heard  opening  an  outside  door  and  entering  the 
Registrar's  room.  Harry  Covare  jumped  down 
from  his  stool,  laid  his  half-smoked  cigarette 
thereon,  and  bounced  into  the  next  room,  clos 
ing  the  door  after  him.  In  about  a  minute  he 
returned,  and  the  Shipwreck  Clerk  looked  at  him 
inquiringly. 

"An  old  cock  in  a  pea-jacket,"  said  Mr. 
Covare,  taking  up  his  cigarette  and  mounting 
his  stool.  "  I  told  him  the  Registrar  would  be 
here  in  the  morning.  He  said  he  had  something 
to  report  about  a  shipwreck,  and  I  told  him  the 
Registrar  would  be  here  in  the  morning.  Had 
to  tell  him  that  three  times,  and  then  he  went." 

"  School  don't  keep  Wednesday  afternoons," 
said  Mr.  J.  George  Watts,  with  a  knowing  smile. 
"  No,  sir,"  said  the  Shipwreck  Clerk,  em 
phatically,  changing  the  crossing  of  his  legs. 
"  A  nu'n  can't  keep  grinding  on  day  in  and  out 
without  breaking  down.  Outsiders  may  say  what 


136  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

they  please  about  it,  but  it  can't  be  done.  We've 
got  to  let  up  sometimes.  People  who  do  the 
work  need  the  rest  just  as  much  as  those  who  do 
the  looking  on." 

"  And  more  too,  I  should  say,"  observed  Mr. 
Mathers. 

"  Our  little  let-up  on  Wednesday  afternoons," 
modestly  observed  Harry  Covare,  "  is  like  death 
—  it  is  sure  to  come;  while  the  let-ups  we  get 
other  days  are  more  like  the  diseases  which  pre 
vail  in  certain  areas  —  you  can't  be  sure  whether 
you're  going  to  get  them  or  not." 

The  Shipwreck  Clerk  smiled  benignantly  at  this 
remark,  and  the  rest  laughed.  Mr.  Mathers  had 
heard  it  before,  but  he  would  not  impair  the  pleas 
antness  of  his  relations  with  a  future  colleague  by 
hinting  that  he  remembered  it. 

"He  gets  such  ideas  from  his  beastly  statistics, " 
said  the  Shipwreck  Clerk. 

"  Which  come  pretty  heavy  on  him  sometimes, 
I  expect,"  observed  Mr.  Mathers. 

"They  needn't,"  said  the  Shipwreck  Clerk, 
"  if  things  were  managed  here  as  they  ought  to 
be.  If  John  J.  Laylor  " — meaning  thereby  the 
Registrar — "  was  the  right  kind  of  a  man  you'd 
see  things  very  different  here  from  what  they  are 
now.  There'd  be  a  larger  force." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Mr.  Mathers. 

"  And  not  only  that,  but  there'd  be  better 
buildings  and  more  accommodations.  Were  any 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     137 

of  you  ever  up  to  Anster?  Well,  take  a  run  up 
there  some  day,  and  see  what  sort  of  buildings 
the  department  has  there.  William  Q.  Green  is 
a  very  different  man  from  John  J.  Laylor.  You 
don't  see  him  sitting  in  his  chair  and  picking  his 
teeth  the  whole  winter,  M-hile  the  Representative 
from  his  district  never  says  a  word  about  his  de 
partment  from  one  end  of  a  session  of  Congress 
to  the  other.  Now  if  I  had  charge  of  things 
here,  I'd  make  such  changes  that  you  wouldn't 
know  the  place.  I'd  throw  two  rooms  off  here, 
and  a  corridor  and  entrance-door  at  that  end  of 
the  building.  I'd  close  up  this  door" — pointing 
toward  the  Registrar's  room — "  and  if  John  J. 
Laylor  wanted  to  come  in  here  he  might  go  round 
to  the  end  door  like  other  people." 

The  thought  struck  Harry  Covare  that  in  that 
case  there  would  be  no  John  J.  Laylor,  but  he 
would  not  interrupt. 

"  And  what  is  more,"  continued  the  Shipwreck 
Clerk,  "I'd  close  up  this  whole  department  at 
twelve  o'clock  on  Saturdays.  The  way  things 
are  managed  now,  a  man  has  no  time  to  attend 
to  his  own  private  business.  Suppose  I  think 
of  buying  a  piece  of  land,  and  want  to  go  out  and 
look  at  it,  or  suppose  any  one  of  you  gentlemen 
were  here  and  thought  of  buying  a  piece  of  land 
and  wanted  to  go  out  and  look  at  it,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  about  it?  You  don't  want  to  go  on 
Sunday,  and  when  are  you  going  to  go?  " 


138  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

Not  one  of  the  other  gentlemen  had  ever 
thought  of  buying  a  piece  of  land,  nor  had  they 
any  reason  to  suppose  that  they  ever  would  pur 
chase  an  inch  of  soil  unless  they  bought  it  in 
a  flower-pot;  but  they  all  agreed  that  the  way 
things  were  managed  now  there  was  no  time  for 
a  man  to  attend  to  his  own  business. 

"  But  you  can't  expect  John  J.  Laylor  to  do 
anything,"  said  the  Shipwreck  Clerk. 

However,  there  was  one  thing  which  that 
gentleman  always  expected  John  J.  Laylor  to  do. 
When  the  clerk  was  surrounded  by  a  number  of 
persons  in  hours  of  business,  and  when  he  had 
succeeded  in  impressing  them  with  the  impor 
tance  of  his  functions  and  the  necessity  of  paying 
deferential  attention  to  himself  if  they  wished  their 
business  attended  to,  John  J.  Laylor  would  be  sure 
to  walk  into  the  office  and  address  the  Shipwreck 
Clerk  in  such  a  manner  as  to  let  the  people  pres 
ent  know  that  he  was  a  clerk  and  nothing  else, 
and  that  he,  the  Registrar,  was  the  head  of  that ' 
department.  These  humiliations  the  Shipwreck 
Clerk  never  forgot. 

There  was  a  little  pause  here,  and  then  Mr. 
Mathers  remarked : 

' '  I  should  think  you'd  be  awfully  bored  with 
the  long  stories  of  shipwrecks  that  the  people 
come  and  tell  you." 

He  hoped  to  change  the  conversation,  because, 
although  he  wished  to  remain  on  good  terms  with 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     139 

the  subordinate  officers,  it  was  not  desirable  that  he 
should  be  led  to  say  much  against  John  J.  Laylor. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  Shipwreck  Clerk,  "  I  am 
not  bored.  I  did  not  come  here  to  be  bored,  and 
as  long  as  I  have  charge  of  this  office  I  don't  in 
tend  to  be.  The  long-winded  old  salts  who  come 
here  to  report  their  wrecks  never  spin  out  their 
prosy  yarns  to  me.  The  first  thing  I  do  is  to  let 
them  know  just  what  I  want  of  them ;  and  not  an 
inch  beyond  that  does  a  man  of  them  go,  at  least 
while  I  am  managing  the  business.  There  are 
times  when  John  J.  Laylor  comes  in,  and  puts 
in  his  oar,  and  wants  to  hear  the  whole  story ; 
which  is  pure  stuff  and  nonsense,  for  John  J. 
Laylor  doesn't  know  anything  more  about  a  ship 
wreck  than  he  does  about — " 

"The  endemics  in  the  Lake  George  area," 
suggested  Harry  Covare. 

"  Yes ;  or  any  other  part  of  his  business,"  said 
the  Shipwreck  Clerk ;  ' '  and  when  he  takes  it  into 
his  head  to  interfere,  all  business  stops  till  some 
second  mate  of  a  coal-schooner  has  told  his  whole 
story  from  his  sighting  land  on  the  morning  of 
one  day  to  his  getting  ashore  on  it  on  the  after 
noon  of  the  next.  Now  I  don't  put  up  with  any 
such  nonsense.  There's  no  man  living  that  can 
tell  me  anything  about  shipwrecks.  I've  never 
been  to  sea  myself,  but  that's  not  necessary ;  and 
if  I  had  gone,  it's  not  likely  I'd  been  wrecked. 
But  I've  read  about  every  kind  of  shipwreck  that 


140  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

ever  happened.  When  I  first  came  here  I  took 
care  to  post  myself  upon  these  matters,  because 
I  knew  it  would  save  trouble.  I  have  read 
'  Robinson  Crusoe,' '  The  Wreck  of  the  "  Grosve- 
nor,"  ' '  The  Sinking  of  the  "  Royal  George,"  '  and 
wrecks  by  water-spouts,  tidal  waves,  and  every 
other  thing  which  would  knock  a  ship  into  a 
cocked  hat,  and  I've  classified  every  sort  of  wreck 
under  its  proper  head;  and  when  I've  found  out 
to  what  class  a  wreck  belongs,  I  know  all  about  it. 
Now,  when  a  man  comes  here  to  report  a  wreck, 
the  first  thing  he  has  to  do  is  just  to  shut  down  on 
his  story,  and  to  stand  up  square  and  answer  a 
few  questions  that  I  put  to  him.  In  two  minutes 
I  know  just  what  kind  of  shipwreck  he's  had ; 
and  then,  when  he  gives  me  the  name  of  his 
vessel,  and  one  or  two  other  points,  he  may  go. 
I  know  all  about  that  wreck,  and  I  make  a  much 
better  report  of  the  business  than  he  could  have 
done  if  he'd  stood  here  talking  three  days  and 
three  nights.  The  amount  of  money  that's  been 
saved  to  our  taxpayers  by  the  way  I've  systema 
tized  the  business  of  this  office  is  not  to  be  calcu 
lated  in  figures." 

The  brother-in-law  of  J.  George  Watts  knocked 
the  ashes  from  the  remnant  of  his  cigar,  looked 
contemplatively  at  the  coal  for  a  moment,  and 
then  remarked: 

"  I  think  you  said  there's  no  kind  of  shipwreck 
you  don't  know  about?  " 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     141 

"That's  what  I  said,"  replied  the  Shipwreck 
Clerk. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  other,  "  I  could  tell  you 
of  a  shipwreck,  in  which  I  was  concerned,  that 
wouldn't  go  into  any  of  your  classes." 

The  Shipwreck  Clerk  threw  away  the  end  of 
his  cigar,  put  both  his  hands  into  his  trousers 
pockets,  stretched  out  his  legs,  and  looked  stead 
fastly  at  the  man  who  had  made  this  unwarrant 
able  remark.  Then  a  pitying  smile  stole  over  his 
countenance,  and  he  said:  "Well,  sir,  I'd  like 
to  hear  your  account  of  it ;  and  before  you  get  a 
quarter  through  I  can  stop  you  just  where  you 
are,  and  go  ahead  and  tell  the  rest  of  the  story 
myself." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Harry  Covare.  "  You'll  see 
him  do  it  just  as  sure  pop  as  a  spread  rail  bounces 
the  engine." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  brother-in-law  of  J. 
George  Watts,  "I'll  tell  it."  And  he  began: 

"  It  was  just  two  years  ago  the  ist  of  this 
month  that  I  sailed  for  South  America  in  the 
'  Thomas  Hyke. '  " 

At  this  point  the  Shipwreck  Clerk  turned  and 
opened  a  large  book  at  the  letter  T. 

"  That  wreck  wasn't  reported  here,"  said  the 
other,  "  and  you  won't  find  it  in  your  book." 

"  At  Anster,  perhaps?  "  said  the  Shipwreck 
Clerk,  closing  the  volume  and  turning  round  again. 


i42  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  Can't  say  about  that,"  replied  the  other. 
"  I've  never  been  to  Anster,  and  haven't  looked 
over  their  books." 

"Well,  you  needn't  want  to,"  said  the  clerk. 
"  They've  got  good  accommodations  at  Anster, 
and  the  Registrar  has  some  ideas  of  the  duties  of 
his  post,  but  they  have  no  such  system  of  wreck 
reports  as  we  have  here." 

"  Very  like,"  said  the  brother-in-law.  And  he 
went  on  with  his  story.  "  The  '  Thomas  Hyke  ' 
was  a  small  iron  steamer  of  six  hundred  tons, 
and  she  sailed  from  Ulford  for  Valparaiso  with  a 
cargo  principally  of  pig-iron. " 

"  Pig-iron  for  Valparaiso?  "  remarked  the  Ship 
wreck  Clerk.  And  then  he  knitted  his  brows 
thoughtfully,  and  said,  "  Go  on." 

"  She  was  a  new  vessel,"  continued  the  narra 
tor,  "and  built  with  water-tight  compartments; 
rather  uncommon  for  a  vessel  of  her  class,  but  so 
she  %vas.  I  am  not  a  sailor,  and  don't  know 
anything  about  ships.  I  went  as  passenger,  and 
there  was  another  one  named  William  Anderson, 
and  his  son  Sam,  a  boy  about  fifteen  years  old. 
We  were  all  going  to  Valparaiso  on  business.  I 
don't  remember  just  how  many  days  we  were  out, 
nor  do  I  know  just  where  we  were,  but  it  was 
somewhere  off  the  coast  of  South  America,  when, 
one  dark  night — with  a  fog  besides,  for  aught  I 
know,  for  I  was  asleep  —  we  ran  into  a  steamer 
coming  north.  How  we  managed  to  do  this, 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     143 

with  room  enough  on  both  sides  for  all  the  ships 
in  the  world  to  pass,  I  don't  know ;  but  so  it  was. 
When  I  got  on  deck  the  other  vessel  had  gone  on, 
and  we  never  saw  anything  more  of  her.  Whether 
she  sunk  or  got  home  is  something  I  can't  tell. 
But  we  pretty  soon  found  that  the  '  Thomas 
Hyke '  had  some  of  the  plates  in  her  bow  badly 
smashed,  and  she  took  in  water  like  a  thirsty  dog. 
The  captain  had  the  forward  water-tight  bulkhead 
shut  tight,  and  the  pumps  set  to  work,  but  it  was 
no  use.  That  forward  compartment  just  filled  up 
with  water,  and  the  '  Thomas  Hyke  '  settled  down 
with  her  bow  clean  under.  Her  deck  was  slant 
ing  forward  like  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  the  pro 
peller  was  lifted  up  so  that  it  wouldn't  have 
worked  even  if  the  engine  had  been  kept  going. 
The  captain  had  the  masts  cut  away,  thinking 
this  might  bring  her  up  some,  but  it  didn't  help 
much.  There  was  a  pretty  heavy  sea  on,  and  the 
waves  came  rolling  up  the  slant  of  the  deck  like 
the  surf  on  the  sea-shore.  The  captain  gave  orders 
to  have  all  the  hatches  battened  down  so  that  water 
couldn't  get  in,  and  the  only  way  by  which  any 
body  could  go  below  was  by  the  cabin  door,  which 
was  far  aft.  This  work  of  stopping  up  all  open 
ings  in  the  deck  was  a  dangerous  business,  for 
the  decks  sloped  right  down  into  the  water,  and 
if  anybody  had  slipped,  away  he'd  have  gone  into 
the  ocean,  with  nothing  to  stop  him;  but  the  men 
made  a  line  fast  to  themselves,  and  worked  away 


144  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

with  a  good  will,  and  soon  got  the  deck  and  the 
house  over  the  engine  as  tight  as  a  bottle.  The 
smoke-stack,  which  was  well  forward,  had  been 
broken  down  by  a  spar  when  the  masts  had  been 
cut,  and  as  the  waves  washed  into  the  hole  that  it 
left,  the  captain  had  this  plugged  up  with  old  sails, 
well  fastened  down.  It  was  a  dreadful  thing  to 
see  the  ship  a-lying  with  her  bows  clean  under 
water  and  her  stern  sticking  up.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  her  water-tight  compartments  that  were 
left  uninjured,  she  would  have  gone  down  to  the 
bottom  as  slick  as  a  whistle.  On  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  after  the  collision  the  wind  fell,  and 
the  sea  soon  became  pretty  smooth.  The  captain 
was  quite  sure  that  there  would  be  no  trouble 
about  keeping  afloat  until  some  ship  came  along 
and  took  us  off.  Our  flag  was  flying,  upside 
down,  from  a  pole  in  the  stern;  and  if  anybody 
saw  a  ship  making  such  a  guy  of  herself  as  the 
'  Thomas  Hyke '  was  then  doing,  they'd  be  sure 
to  come  to  see  what  was  the  matter  with  her, 
even  if  she  had  no  flag  of  distress  flying.  We 
tried  to  make  ourselves  as  comfortable  as  we 
could,  but  this  wasn't  easy  with  everything  on 
such  a  dreadful  slant.  But  that  night  we  heard 
a  rumbling  and  grinding  noise  down  in  the  hold, 
and  the  slant  seemed  to  get  worse.  Pretty  soon 
the  captain  roused  all  hands  and  told  us  that  the 
cargo  of  pig-iron  was  shifting  and  sliding  down 
to  the  bow,  and  that  it  wouldn't  be  long  before 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     145 

it  would  break  through  all  the  bulkheads,  and 
then  we'd  fill  and  go  to  the  bottom  like  a  shot. 
He  said  we  must  all  take  to  the  boats  and  get 
away  as  quick  as  we  could.  It  was  an  easy 
matter  launching  the  boats.  They  didn't  lower 
them  outside  from  the  davits,  but  they  just  let  'em 
down  on  deck  and  slid  'em  along  forward  into  the 
water,  and  then  held  'em  there  with  a  rope  till 
everything  was  ready  to  start.  They  launched 
three  boats,  put  plenty  of  provisions  and  water 
in  'em,  and  then  everybody  began  to  get  aboard. 
But  William  Anderson  and  me  and  his  son  Sam 
couldn't  make  up  our  minds  to  get  into  those  boats 
and  row  out  on  the  dark,  wide  ocean.  They  were 
the  biggest  boats  we  had,  but  still  they  were  little 
things  enough.  The  ship  seemed  to  us  to  be  a 
good  deal  safer,  and  more  likely  to  be  seen  when 
day  broke,  than  those  three  boats,  which  might 
be  blown  off,  if  the  wind  rose,  nobody  knew 
where.  It  seemed  to  us  that  the  cargo  had  done 
all  the  shifting  it  intended  to,  for  the  noise  be 
low  had  stopped ;  and,  altogether,  we  agreed  that 
we'd  rather  stick  to  the  ship  than  go  off  in  those 
boats.  The  captain  he  tried  to  make  us  go,  but  we 
wouldn't  do  it ;  and  he  told  us  if  we  chose  to  stay 
behind  and  be  drowned  it  was  our  affair  and  he 
couldn't  help  it ;  and  then  he  said  there  was  a 
small  boat  aft,  and  we'd  better  launch  her,  and 
have  her  ready  in  case  things  should  get  worse 
and  we  should  make  up  our  minds  to  leave  the 


146  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

vessel.  He  and  the  rest  then  rowed  off  so  as  not 
to  be  caught  in  the  vortex  if  the  steamer  went 
down,  and  we  three  stayed  aboard.  We  launched 
the  small  boat  in  the  way  we'd  seen  the  others 
launched,  being  careful  to  have  ropes  tied  to  us 
while  we  were  doing  it ;  and  we  put  things  aboard 
that  we  thought  we  should  want.  Then  we  went 
into  the  cabin  and  waited  for  morning.  It  was  a 
queer  kind  of  a  cabin,  with  a  floor  inclined  like 
the  roof  of  a  house ;  but  we  sat  down  in  the  cor 
ners,  and  were  glad  to  be  there.  The  swinging 
lamp  was  burning,  and  it  was  a  good  deal  more 
cheerful  in  there  than  it  was  outside.  But,  about 
daybreak,  the  grinding  and  rumbling  down  below 
began  again,  and  the  bow  of  the  '  Thomas  Hyke  ' 
kept  going  down  more  and  more ;  and  it  wasn't 
long  before  the  forward  bulkhead  of  the  cabin, 
which  was  what  you  might  call  its  front  wall 
when  everything  was  all  right,  was  under  our 
feet,  as  level  as  a  floor,  and  the  lamp  was  lying 
close  against  the  ceiling  that  it  was  hanging  from. 
You  may  be  sure  that  we  thought  it  was  time  to 
get  out  of  that.  There  were  benches  with  arms 
to  them  fastened  to  the  floor,  and  by  these  we 
climbed  up  to  the  foot  of  the  cabin  stairs,  which, 
being  turned  bottom  upward,  we  went  down  in 
order  to  get  out.  When  we  reached  the  cabin 
door  we  saw  part  of  the  deck  below  us,  standing  up 
like  the  side  of  a  house  that  is  built  in  the  water, 
as  they  say  the  houses  in  Venice  are.  We  had 


WRECK  OF  THE  "THOMAS  HYKE"     147 

made  our  boat  fast  to  the  cabin  door  by  a  long  line, 
and  now  we  saw  her  floating  quietly  on  the  water, 
which  was  very  smooth  and  about  twenty  feet  be 
low  us.  We  drew  her  up  as  close  under  us  as  we 
could,  and  then  we  let  the  boy  Sam  down  by  a 
rope,  and  after  some  kicking  and  swinging  he  got 
into  her ;  and  then  he  took  the  oars  and  kept  her 
right  under  us  while  we  scrambled  down  by  the 
ropes  which  we  had  used  in  getting  her  ready. 
As  soon  as  we  were  in  the  boat  we  cut  her  rope 
and  pulled  away  as  hard  as  we  could ;  and  when 
we  got  to  what  we  thought  was  a  safe  distance 
we  stopped  to  look  at  the  '  Thomas  Hyke.'  You 
never  saw  such  a  ship  in  all  your  born  days.  Two 
thirds  of  the  hull  was  sunk  in  the  water,  and  she 
was  standing  straight  up  and  down  with  the  stern 
in  the  air,  her  rudder  up  as  high  as  the  topsail 
ought  to  be,  and  the  screw  propeller  looking  like 
the  wheel  on  the  top  of  one  of  these  windmills 
that  they  have  in  the  country  for  pumping  up 
water.  Her  cargo  had  shifted  so  far  forward 
that  it  had  turned  her  right  upon  end,  but  she 
couldn't  sink,  owing  to  the  air  in  the  compart 
ments  that  the  water  hadn't  got  into ;  and  on  the 
top  of  the  whole  thing  was  the  distress  flag  fly 
ing  from  the  pole  which  stuck  out  over  the  stern. 
It  was  broad  daylight,  but  not  a  thing  did  we  see 
of  the  other  boats.  We'd  supposed  that  they 
wouldn't  row  very  far,  but  would  lay  off  at  a 
safe  distance  until  daylight ;  but  they  must  have 


148  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

been  scared  and  rowed  farther  than  they  intended. 
Well,  sir,  we  stayed  in  that  boat  all  day  and 
watched  the  '  Thomas  Hyke  ' ;  but  she  just  kept 
as  she  was  and  didn't  seem  to  sink  an  inch. 
There  was  no  use  of  rowing  away,  for  we  had 
no  place  to  row  to ;  and  besides,  we  thought  that 
passing  ships  would  be  much  more  likely  to  see 
that  stern  sticking  high  in  the  air  than  our  little 
boat.  We  had  enough  to  eat,  and  at  night  two 
of  us  slept  while  the  other  watched,  dividing  off 
the  time  and  taking  turns  to  this.  In  the  morn 
ing  there  was  the  '  Thomas  Hyke  '  standing  stern 
up  just  as  before.  There  was  a  long  swell  on 
the  ocean  now,  and  she'd  rise  and  lean  over  a 
little  on  each  wave,  but  she'd  come  up  again  just 
as  straight  as  before.  That  night  passed  as  the 
last  one  had,  and  in  the  morning  we  found  we'd 
drifted  a  good  deal  farther  from  the  '  Thomas 
Hyke ' ;  but  she  was  floating  just  as  she  had 
been,  like  a  big  buoy  that's  moored  over  a  sand 
bar.  We  couldn't  see  a  sign  of  the  boats,  and 
we  about  gave  them  up.  We  had  our  breakfast, 
which  was  a  pretty  poor  meal,  being  nothing  but 
hardtack  and  what  was  left  of  a  piece  of  boiled 
beef.  After  we'd  sat  for  a  while  doing  nothing, 
but  feeling  mighty  uncomfortable,  William  Ander 
son  said,  '  Look  here,  do  you  know  that  I  think 
we  would  be  three  fools  to  keep  on  shivering  all 
night,  and  living  on  hardtack  in  the  daytime, 
when  there's  plenty  on  that  vessel  for  us  to  eat 


WRECK  OF  THE  "THOMAS  HYKE"     149 

and  to  keep  us  warm.  If  she's  floated  that  way 
for  two  days  and  two  nights,  there's  no  knowing 
how  much  longer  she'll  float,  and  we  might  as 
well  go  on  board  and  get  the  things  we  want  as 
not.'  '  All  right,'  said  I,  for  I  was  tired  doing 
nothing ;  and  Sam  was  as  willing  as  anybody.  So 
we  rowed  up  to  the  steamer,  and  stopped  close  to 
the  deck,  which,  as  I  said  before,  was  standing 
straight  up  out  of  the  water  like  the  wall  of  a 
house.  The  cabin  door,  which  was  the  only 
opening  into  her,  was  about  twenty  feet  above  us, 
and  the  ropes  which  we  had  tied  to  the  rails  of 
the  stairs  inside  were  still  hanging  down.  Sam 
was  an  active  youngster,  and  he  managed  to 
climb  up  one  of  these  ropes ;  but  when  he  got  to 
the  door  he  drew  it  up  and  tied  knots  in  it  about 
a  foot  apart,  and  then  he  let  it  down  to  us,  for 
neither  William  Anderson  nor  me  could  go  up  a 
rope  hand  over  hand  without  knots  or  something 
to  hold  on  to.  As  it  was,  we  had  a  lot  of  bother 
getting  up,  but  we  did  it  at  last;  and  then  we 
walked  up  the  stairs,  treading  on  the  front  part 
of  each  step  instead  of  the  top  of  it,  as  we  would 
have  done  if  the  stairs  had  been  in  their  proper 
position.  When  we  got  to  the  floor  of  the  cabin, 
which  was  now  perpendicular  like  a  wall,  we  had 
to  clamber  down  by  means  of  the  furniture,  which 
was  screwed  fast,  until  we  reached  the  bulkhead, 
which  was  now  the  floor  of  the  cabin.  Close  to 
this  bulkhead  was  a  small  room  which  was  the 


i5o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

steward's  pantry,  and  here  we  found  lots  of 
things  to  eat,  but  all  jumbled  up  in  a  way  that 
made  us  laugh.  The  boxes  of  biscuits  and  the 
tin  cans  and  a  lot  of  bottles  in  wicker  covers  were 
piled  up  on  one  end  of  the  room,  and  everything 
in  the  lockers  and  drawers  was  jumbled  together. 
William  Anderson  and  me  set  to  work  to  get  out 
what  we  thought  we'd  want,  and  we  told  Sam  to 
climb  up  into  some  of  the  state-rooms  —  of  which 
there  were  four  on  each  side  of  the  cabin — and 
get  some  blankets  to  keep  us  warm,  as  well  as  a 
few  sheets,  which  we,  thought  we  could  rig  up  for 
an  awning  to  the  boat ;  for  the  days  were  just  as 
hot  as  the  nights  were  cool.  When  we'd  col 
lected  what  we  wanted,  William  Anderson  and 
me  climbed  into  our  own  rooms,  thinking  we'd 
each  pack  a  valise  with  what  we  most  wanted  to 
save  of  our  clothes  and  things ;  and  while  we 
were  doing  this  Sam  called  out  to  us  that  it  was 
raining.  He  was  sitting  at  the  cabin  door  look 
ing  out.  I  first  thought  to  tell  him  to  shut  the 
door  so's  to  keep  the  rain  from  coming  in ;  but 
when  I  thought  how  things  really  were,  I  laughed 
at  the  idea.  There  was  a  sort  of  little  house 
built  over  the  entrance  to  the  cabin,  and  in  one 
end  of  it  was  the  door;  and  in  the  way  the  ship 
now  was  the  open  doorway  was  underneath  the 
little  house,  and  of  course  no  rain  could  come  in. 
Pretty  soon  we  heard  the  rain  pouring  down, 
beating  on  the  stern  of  the  vessel  like  hail.  We 


WRECK  OF  THE  "THOMAS  HYKE"     151 

got  to  the  stairs  and  looked  out.  The  rain  was 
falling  in  perfect  sheets,  in  a  way  you  never  see 
except  round  about  the  tropics.  '  It's  a  good 
thing  we're  inside,'  said  William  Anderson,  '  for 
if  we'd  been  out  in  this  rain  we'd  been  drowned 
in  the  boat.'  I  agreed  with  him,  and  we  made  up 
our  minds  to  stay  where  we  were  until  the  rain 
was  over.  Well,  it  rained  about  four  hours  ;  and 
when  it  stopped,  and  we  looked  out,  we  saw  our 
little  boat  nearly  full  of  water,  and  sunk  so  deep 
that  if  one  of  us  had  stepped  on  her  she'd  have 
gone  down,  sure.  '  Here's  a  pretty  kittle  of  fish,' 
said  William  Anderson ;  '  there's  nothing  for  us 
to  do  now  but  to  stay  where  we  are. '  I  believe 
in  his  heart  he  was  glad  of  that,  for  if  ever  a  man 
was  tired  of  a  little  boat,  William  Anderson  was 
tired  of  that  one  we'd  been  in  for  two  days  and  two 
nights.  At  any  rate,  there  was  no  use  talking 
about  it,  and  we  set  to  work  to  make  ourselves 
comfortable.  We  got  some  mattresses  and  pillows 
out  of  the  state-rooms,  and  when  it  began  to  get 
dark  we  lighted  the  lamp — which  we  had  filled 
with  sweet-oil  from  a  flask  in  the  pantry,  not 
finding  any  other  kind  —  and  we  hung  it  from 
the  railing  of  the  stairs.  We  had  a  good  night's 
rest,  and  the  only  thing  that  disturbed  me  was 
William  Anderson  lifting  up  his  head  every  time 
he  turned  over  and  saying  how  much  better  this 
was  than  that  blasted  little  boat.  The  next  morn 
ing  we  had  a  good  breakfast,  even  making  some 


i52  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

tea  with  a  spirit-lamp  we  found,  using  brandy 
instead  of  alcohol.  William  Anderson  and  I 
wanted  to  get  into  the  captain's  room — which 
was  near  the  stern  and  pretty  high  up  —  so  as  to 
see  if  there  was  anything  there  that  we  ought  to 
get  ready  to  save  when  a  vessel  should  come 
along  and  pick  us  up ;  but  we  were  not  good  at 
climbing,  like  Sam,  and  we  didn't  see  how  we 
could  get  up  there.  Sam  said  he  was  sure  he 
had  once  seen  a  ladder  in  the  compartment  just 
forward  of  the  bulkhead,  and  as  William  was 
very  anxious  to  get  up  to  the  captain's  room,  we 
let  the  boy  go  and  look  for  it.  There  was  a  slid 
ing  door  in  the  bulkhead  under  our  feet,  and  we 
opened  this  far  enough  to  let  Sam  get  through ; 
and  he  scrambled  down  like  a  monkey  into  the 
next  compartment,  which  was  light  enough,  al 
though  the  lower  half  of  it,  which  was  next  to 
the  engine-room,  was  under  the  water-line.  Sam 
actually  found  a  ladder  with  hooks  at  one  end  of 
it,  and  while  he  was  handing  it  up  to  us  —  which 
was  very  hard  to  do,  for  he  had  to  climb  up  on 
all  sorts  of  things — he  let  it  topple  over,  and  the 
end  with  the  iron  hooks  fell  against  the  round 
glass  of  one  of  the  port-holes.  The  glass  was 
very  thick  and  strong,  but  the  ladder  came  down 
very  heavy  and  shivered  it.  As  bad  luck  would 
have  it,  this  window  was  below  the  water-line, 
and  the  water  came  rushing  in  in  a  big  spout. 
We  chucked  blankets  down  to  Sam  for  him  to 


WRECK  OF  THE  "THOMAS  HYKE"     153 

stop  up  the  hole,  but  'twas  of  no  use ;  for  it  was 
hard  for  him  to  get  at  the  window,  and  when  he 
did  the  water  came  in  with  such  force  that  he 
couldn't  get  a  blanket  into  the  hole.  We  were 
afraid  he'd  be  drowned  down  there,  and  told  him 
to  come  out  as  quick  as  he  could.  He  put  up  the 
ladder  again,  and  hooked  it  on  to  the  door  in  the 
bulkhead,  and  we  held  it  while  he  climbed  up. 
Looking  down  through  the  doorway,  we  saw,  by 
the  way  the  water  was  pouring  in  at  the  opening, 
that  it  wouldn't  be  long  before  that  compartment 
was  filled  up ;  so  we  shoved  the  door  to  and  made 
it  all  tight,  and  then  said  William  Anderson,  '  The 
ship'll  sink  deeper  and  deeper  as  that  fills  up,  and 
the  water  may  get  up  to  the  cabin  door,  and  we 
must  go  and  make  that  as  tight  as  we  can. '  Sam 
had  pulled  the  ladder  up  after  him,  and  this  we 
found  of  great  use  in  getting  to  the  foot  of  the 
cabin  stairs.  We  shut  the  cabin  door,  and  locked 
and  bolted  it ;  and  as  it  fitted  pretty  tight,  we  didn't 
think  it  would  let  in  much  water  if  the  ship  sunk 
that  far.  But  over  the  top  of  the  cabin  stairs 
were  a  couple  of  folding  doors,  which  shut  down 
horizontally  when  the  ship  was  in  its  proper  posi 
tion,  and  which  were  only  used  in  very  bad,  cold 
weather.  These  we  pulled  to  and  fastened  tight, 
thus  having  a  double  protection  against  the  water. 
Well,  we  didn't  get  this  done  any  too  soon,  for  the 
water  did  come  up  to  the  cabin  door,  and  a  little 
trickled  in  from  the  outside  door  and  through  the 


154  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

cracks  in  the  inner  one.  But  we  went  to  work 
and  stopped  these  up  with  strips  from  the  sheets, 
which  we  crammed  well  in  with  our  pocket-knives. 
Then  we  sat  down  on  the  steps  and  waited  to  see 
what  would  happen  next.  The  doors  of  all  the 
state-rooms  were  open,  and  we  could  see  through 
the  thick  plate-glass  windows  in  them,  which 
were  all  shut  tight,  that  the  ship  was  sinking 
more  and  more  as  the  water  came  in.  Sam 
climbed  up  into  one  of  the  after  state-rooms,  and 
said  the  outside  water  was  nearly  up  to  the  stern  ; 
and  pretty  soon  we  looked  up  to  the  two  port 
holes  in  the  stern,  and  saw  that  they  were  covered 
with  water ;  and  as  more  and  more  water  could 
be  seen  there,  and  as  the  light  came  through  less 
easily,  we  knew  that  we  were  sinking  under  the 
surface  of  the  ocean.  '  It's  a  mighty  good  thing,' 
said  William  Anderson,  '  that  no  water  can  get  in 
here.'  William  had  a  hopeful  kind  of  mind,  and 
always  looked  on  the  bright  side  of  things ;  but  I 
must  say  that  I  was  dreadfully  scared  when  I 
looked  through  those  stern  windows  and  saw 
water  instead  of  sky.  It  began  to  get  duskier 
and  duskier  as  we  sank  lower  and  lower;  but 
still  we  could  see  pretty  well,  for  it's  astonishing 
how  much  light  comes  down  through  water. 
After  a  little  while  we  noticed  that  the  light  re 
mained  about  the  same ;  and  then  William  Ander 
son  he  sings  out,  '  Hooray,  we've  stopped  sink 
ing!  '  '  What  difference  does  that  make?  '  says  I. 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     155 

'  We  must  be  thirty  or  forty  feet  under  water,  and 
more  yet,  for  aught  I  know.'  '  Yes,  that  may  be,' 
said  he ;  '  but  it  is  clear  that  all  the  water  has  got 
into  that  compartment  that  can  get  in,  and  we 
have  sunk  just  as  far  down  as  we  are  going.' 
'  But  that  don't  help  matters,'  said  I ;  '  thirty  or 
forty  feet  under  water  is  just  as  bad  as  a  thousand 
as  to  drowning  a  man.'  '  Drowning!  '  said  Wil 
liam;  '  how  are  you  going  to  be  drowned?  No 
water  can  get  in  here.'  '  Nor  no  air,  either,' 
said  I ;  '  and  people  are  drowned  for  want  of  air, 
as  I  take  it.'  '  It  would  be  a  queer  sort  of  thing,' 
said  William,  '  to  be  drowned  in  the  ocean  and 
yet  stay  as  dry  as  a  chip.  But  it's  no  use  being 
worried  about  air.  We've  got  air  enough  here  to 
last  us  for  ever  so  long.  This  stern  compartment 
is  the  biggest  in  the  ship,  and  it's  got  lots  of  air 
in  it.  Just  think  of  that  hold!  It  must  be  nearly 
full  of  air.  The  stern  compartment  of  the  hold 
has  got  nothing  in  it  but  sewing-machines.  I 
saw  'em  loading  her.  The  pig-iron  was  mostly 
amidships,  or  at  least  forward  of  this  compart 
ment.  Now,  there's  no  kind  of  a  cargo  that'll 
accommodate  as  much  air  as  sewing-machines. 
They're  packed  in  wooden  frames,  not  boxes, 
and  don't  fill  up  half  the  room  they  take.  There's 
air  all  througli  and  around  'em.  It's  a  very  com 
forting  thing  to  think  the  hold  isn't  filled  up  solid 
with  bales  of  cotton  or  wheat  in  bulk.'  It  might 
be  comforting,  but  I  couldn't  get  much  good  out 


156  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

of  it.  And  now  Sam,  who'd  been  scrambling  all 
over  the  cabin  to  see  how  things  were  going  on, 
sung  out  that  the  water  was  leaking  in  a  little 
again  at  the  cabin  door  and  around  some  of  the 
iron  frames  of  the  windows.  '  It's  a  lucky  thing,' 
said  William  Anderson,  '  that  we  didn't  sink  any 
deeper,  or  the  pressure  of  the  water  would  have 
burst  in  those  heavy  glasses.  And  what  we've 
got  to  do  now  is  to  stop  up  all  the  cracks.  The 
more  we  work  the  livelier  we'll  feel. '  We  tore  off 
more  strips  of  sheets  and  went  all  round,  stopping 
up  cracks  wherever  we  found  them.  '  It's  fortu 
nate,'  said  William  Anderson,  '  that  Sam  found 
that  ladder,  for  we  would  have  had  hard  work 
getting  to  the  windows  of  the  stern  state-rooms 
without  it ;  but  by  resting  it  on  the  bottom  step 
of  the  stairs,  which  now  happens  to  be  the  top 
one,  we  can  get  to  any  part  of  the  cabin.'  I 
couldn't  help  thinking  that  if  Sam  hadn't  found 
the  ladder  it  would  have  been  a  good  deal  better 
for  us ;  but  I  didn't  want  to  damp  William's 
spirits,  and  I  said  nothing. 

"  And  now  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  the 
narrator,  addressing  the  Shipwreck  Clerk,  "  but 
I  forgot  that  you  said  you'd  finish  this  story  your 
self.  Perhaps  you'd  like  to  take  it  up  just  here?  " 

The  Shipwreck  Clerk  seemed  surprised,  and 
had  apparently  forgotten  his  previous  offer.  "  Oh 
no,"  said  he,  "  tell  your  own  story.  This  is  not 
a  matter  of  business." 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  Hl'KE"     157 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  the  brother-in-law  of 
J.  George  Watts,  "  I'll  go  on.  We  made  every 
thing  as  tight  as  we  could,  and  then  we  got  our 
supper,  having  forgotten  all  about  dinner,  and 
being  very  hungry.  We  didn't  make  any  tea  and 
we  didn't  light  the  lamp,  for  we  knew  that  would 
use  up  air ;  but  we  made  a  better  meal  than  three 
people  sunk  out  of  sight  in  the  ocean  had  a  right 
to  expect.  '  What  troubles  me  most, '  said  William 
Anderson,  as  he  turned  in,  '  is  the  fact  that  if  we 
are  forty  feet  under  water  our  flagpole  must  be 
covered  up.  Now,  if  the  flag  was  sticking  out, 
upside  down,  a  ship  sailing  by  would  see  it  and 
would  know  there  was  something  wrong.'  '  If 
that's  all  that  troubles  you,'  said  I,  '  I  guess 
you'll  sleep  easy.  And  if  a  ship  was  to  see  the 
flag,  I  wonder  how  they'd  know  we  were  down 
here,  and  how  they'd  get  us  out  if  they  did!  ' 
'  Oh,  they'd  manage  it,'  said  William  Anderson  j 
'  trust  those  sea-captains  for  that.'  And  then  he 
went  to  sleep.  The  next  morning  the  air  began 
to  get  mighty  disagreeable  in  the  part  of  the  cabin 
where  we  were,  and  then  William  Anderson  he 
says,  '  What  we've  got  to  do  is  to  climb  up  into 
the  stern  state-rooms,  where  the  air  is  purer. 
We  can  come  down  here  to  get  our  meals,  and 
then  go  up  again  to  breathe  comfortable. '  '  And 
what  are  we  going  to  do  when  the  air  up  there 
gets  foul?  '  says  I  to  William,  who  seemed  to  be 
making  arrangements  for  spending  the  summer 


158  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

in  our  present  quarters.  '  Oh,  that'll  be  all  right,' 
said  he.  '  It  don't  do  to  be  extravagant  with  air 
any  more  than  with  anything  else.  When  we've 
used  up  all  there  is  in  this  cabin,  we  can  bore 
holes  through  the  floor  into  the  hold  and  let  in 
air  from  there.  If  we're  economical,  there'll  be 
enough  to  last  for  dear  knows  how  long.'  We 
passed  the  night  each  in  a  state-room,  sleeping 
on  the  end  wall  instead  of  the  berth,  and  it  wasn't 
till  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  that  the  air  of 
the  cabin  got  so  bad  we  thought  we'd  have  some 
fresh ;  so  we  went  down  on  the  bulkhead,  and 
with  an  auger  that  we  found  in  the  pantry  we 
bored  three  holes,  about  a  yard  apart,  in  the  cabin 
floor,  which  was  now  one  of  the  walls  of  the  room, 
just  as  the  bulkhead  was  the  floor,  and  the  stern 
end,  where  the  two  round  windows  were,  was  the 
ceiling  or  roof.  We  each  took  a  hole,  and  I  tell 
you  it  was  pleasant  to  breathe  the  air  which  came 
in  from  the  hold.  '  Isn't  this  jolly?  '  said  William 
Anderson.  '  And  we  ought  to  be  mighty  glad 
that  that  hold  wasn't  loaded  with  codfish  or  soap. 
But  there's  nothing  that  smells  better  than  new 
sewing-machines  that  haven't  ever  been  used, 
and  this  air  is  pleasant  enough  for  anybody.'  By 
William's  advice  we  made  three  plugs,  by  which 
we  stopped  up  the  holes  when  we  thought  we'd 
had  air  enough  for  the  present.  '  And  now,'  says 
he,  '  we  needn't  climb  up  into  those  awkward 
state-rooms  any  more.  We  can  just  stay  down 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     159 

here  and  be  comfortable,  and  let  in  air  when  we 
want  it. '  '  And  how  long  do  you  suppose  that 
air  in  the  hold  is  going  to  last? '  said  I.  '  Oh, 
ever  so  long,'  said  he,  '  using  it  so  economically 
as  we  do;  and  when  it  stops  coming  out  lively 
through  these  little  holes,  as  I  suppose  it  will 
after  a  while,  we  can  saw  a  big  hole  in  this  floor 
ing  and  go  into  the  hold  and  do  our  breathing,  if 
we  want  to.'  That  evening  we  did  saw  a  hole 
about  a  foot  square,  so  as  to  have  plenty  of  air 
while  we  were  asleep ;  but  we  didn't  go  into  the 
hold,  it  being  pretty  well  filled  up  with  machines  ; 
though  the  next  day  Sam  and  I  sometimes  stuck 
our  heads  in  for  a  good  sniff  of  air,  though  Wil 
liam  Anderson  was  opposed  to  this,  being  of  the 
opinion  that  we  ought  to  put  ourselves  on  short 
rations  of  breathing  so  as  to  make  the  supply  of 
air  hold  out  as  long  as  possible.  '  But  what's  the 
good,'  said  I  to  William,  '  of  trying  to  make  the 
air  hold  out  if  we've  got  to  be  suffocated  in  this 
place  after  all?  '  '  What's  the  good?  '  says  he. 
'  Haven't  you  enough  biscuits  and  canned  meats 
and  plenty  of  other  things  to  eat,  and  a  barrel  of 
water  in  that  room  opposite  the  pantry,  not  to 
speak  of  wine  and  brandy  if  you  want  to  cheer 
yourself  up  a  bit,  and  haven't  we  good  mattresses 
to  sleep  on,  and  why  shouldn't  we  try  to  live  and 
be  comfortable  as  long  as  we  can  ? '  '  What  I 
want, '  said  I,  '  is  to  get  out  of  this  box.  The 
idea  of  being  shut  up  in  here  down  under  the 


160  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

water  is  more  than  I  can  stand.  I'd  rather  take 
my  chances  going  up  to  the  surface  and  swimming 
about  till  I  found  a  piece  of  the  wreck,  or  some 
thing  to  float  on.'  '  You  needn't  think  of  any 
thing  of  that  sort,'  said  William,  '  for  if  we  were 
to  open  a  door  or  a  window  to  get  out,  the 
water'd  rush  in  and  drive  us  back  and  fill  up  this 
place  in  no  time ;  and  then  the  whole  concern 
would  go  to  the  bottom.  And  what  would  you 
do  if  you  did  get  to  the  top  of  the  water?  It's 
not  likely  you'd  find  anything  there  to  get  on, 
and  if  you  did  you  wouldn't  live  very  long  floating 
about  with  nothing  to  eat.  No,  sir,'  says  he, 
'  what  we've  got  to  do  is  to  be  content  with  the 
comforts  we  have  around  us,  and  something  will 
turn  up  to  get  us  out  of  this  ;  you  see  if  it  don't. ' 
There  was  no  use  talking  against  William  Ander 
son,  and  I  didn't  say  any  more  about  getting  out. 
As  for  Sam,  he  spent  his  time  at  the  windows  of 
the  state-rooms  a-looking  out.  We  could  see  a 
good  way  into  the  water  —  farther  than  you  would 
think —  and  we  sometimes  saw  fishes,  especially 
porpoises,  swimming  about,  most  likely  trying  to 
find  out  what  a  ship  was  doing  hanging  bows  down 
under  the  water.  What  troubled  Sam  was  that  a 
swordfish  might  come  along  and  jab  his  sword 
through  one  of  the  windows.  In  that  case  it 
would  be  all  up,  or  rather  down,  with  us. 
Every  now  and  then  he'd  sing  out,  '  Here  comes 
one!  '  And  then,  just  as  I'd  give  a  jump,  he'd 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     161 

say,  'No,  it  isn't;  it's  a  porpoise.'  I  thought 
from  the  first,  and  I  think  now,  that  it  would  have 
been  a  great  deal  better  for  us  if  that  boy  hadn't 
been  along.  That  night  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
motion  to  the  ship,  and  she  swung  about  and  rose 
up  and  down  more  than  she  had  done  since  we'd 
been  left  in  her.  '  There  must  be  a  big  sea  run 
ning  on  top, '  said  William  Anderson,  '  and  if  we 
were  up  there  we'd  be  tossed  about  dreadful. 
Now  the  motion  down  here  is  just  as  easy  as  a 
cradle;  and,  what's  more,  we  can't  be  sunk  very 
deep,  for  if  we  were  there  wouldn't  be  any  motion 
at  all.'  About  noon  the  next  day  we  felt  a  sudden 
tremble  and  shake  run  through  the  whole  ship, 
and  far  down  under  us  we  heard  a  rumbling  and 
grinding  that  nearly  scared  me  out  of  my  wits.  I 
first  thought  we'd  struck  bottom ;  but  William  he 
said  that  couldn't  be,  for  it  was  just  as  light  in 
the  cabin  as  it  had  been,  and  if  we'd  gone  down 
it  would  have  grown  much  darker,  of  course. 
The  rumbling  stopped  after  a  little  while,  and 
then  it  seemed  to  grow  lighter  instead  of  darker ; 
and  Sam,  who  was  looking  up  at  the  stern  win 
dows  over  our  heads,  he  sung  out,  '  Sky!  '  And, 
sure  enough,  we  could  see  the  blue  sky,  as  clear 
as  daylight,  through  those  windows!  And  then 
the  ship  she  turned  herself  on  the  slant,  pretty 
much  as  she  had  been  when  her  forward  cojnpart- 
ment  first  took  in  water,  and  we  found  ourselves 
standing  on  the  cabin  floor  intead  of  the  bulkhead. 


i6a  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

I  was  near  one  of  the  open  state-rooms,  and  as  I 
looked  in  there  was  the  sunlight  coming  through 
the  wet  glass  in  the  window,  and  more  cheerful 
than  anything  I  ever  saw  before  in  this  world. 
William  Anderson  he  just  made  one  jump,  and, 
unscrewing  one  of  the  state-room  windows,  he 
jerked  it  open.  We  had  thought  the  air  inside 
was  good  enough  to  last  some  time  longer ;  but 
when  that  window  was  open  and  the  fresh  air 
came  rushing  in,  it  was  a  different  sort  of  thing, 
I  can  tell  you.  William  put  his  head  out  and 
looked  up  and  down  and  all  around.  '  She's 
nearly  all  out  of  water,'  he  shouted,  '  and  we  can 
open  the  cabin  door!'  Then  we  all  three  rushed 
at  those  stairs,  which  were  nearly  right  side  up 
now,  and  we  had  the  cabin  doors  open  in  no 
time.  When  we  looked  out  we  saw  that  the 
ship  was  truly  floating  pretty  much  as  she  had 
been  when  the  captain  and  crew  left  her,  though 
we  all  agreed  that  her  deck  didn't  slant  as  much 
forward  as  it  did  then.  '  Do  you  know  what's 
happened? '  sung  out  William  Anderson,  after 
he'd  stood  still  for  a  minute  to  look  around  and 
think.  '  That  bobbing  up  and  down  that  the 
vessel  got  last  night  shook  up  and  settled  down 
the  pig-iron  inside  of  her,  and  the  iron  plates  in 
the  bow,  that  were  smashed  and  loosened  by  the 
collision,  have  given  way  under  the  weight,  and 
the  whole  cargo  of  pig-iron  has  burst  through 
and  gone  to  the  bottom.  Then,  of  course,  up  we 


WRECK  OF  THE   "THOMAS  HYKE"     163 

came.  Didn't  I  tell  you  something  would  happen 
to  make  us  all  right?  ' 

"  Well,  I  won't  make  this  story  any  longer 
than  I  can  help.  The  next  day  after  that  we 
were  taken  off  by  a  sugar-ship  bound  north,  and 
we  were  carried  safe  back  to  Ulford,  where  we 
found  our  captain  and  the  crew,  who  had  been 
picked  up  by  a  ship  after  they'd  been  three  or 
four  days  in  their  boats.  This  ship  had  sailed  our 
way  to  find  us,  which,  of  course,  she  couldn't  do, 
as  at  that  time  we  were  under  water  and  out  of 
sight. 

"  And  now,  sir,"  said  the  brother-in-law  of  J. 
George  Watts  to  the  Shipwreck  Clerk,  "  to  which 
of  your  classes  does  this  wreck  of  mine  belong?  " 

"  Gents,"  said  the  Shipwreck  Clerk,  rising  from 
his  seat,  "  it's  four  o'clock,  and  at  that  hour  this 
office  closes." 


OLD    PIPES  AND   THE   DRYAD 


OLD    PIPES  AND   THE   DRYAD 


MOUNTAIN  brook  ran  through  a 
little  village.  Over  the  brook  there 
was  a  narrow  bridge,  and  from  the 
bridge  a  foot-path  led  out  from  the 
village  and  up  the  hillside  to  the  cottage  of  Old 
Pipes  and  his  mother.  For  many,  many  years 
Old  Pipes  had  been  employed  by  the  villagers  to 
pipe  the  cattle  down  from  the  hills.  Every  after 
noon,  an  hour  before  sunset,  he  would  sit  on  a 
rock  in  front  of  his  cottage  and  play  on  his  pipes. 
Then  all  the  flocks  and  herds  that  were  grazing 
on  the  mountains  would  hear  him,  wherever  they 
might  happen  to  be,  and  would  come  down  to  the 
village — the  cows  by  the  easiest  paths,  the  sheep 
by  those  not  quite  so  easy,  and  the  goats  by  the 
steep  and  rocky  ways  that  were  hardest  of  all. 

But  now,  for  a  year  or  more,  Old  Pipes  had  not 
piped  the  cattle  home.  It  is  true  that  every  after 
noon  he  sat  upon  the  rock  and  played  upon  his 


i68  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

familiar  instrument ;  but  the  cattle  did  not  hear 
him.  He  had  grown  old  and  his  breath  was 
feeble.  The  echoes  of  his  cheerful  notes,  which 
used  to  come  from  the  rocky  hill  on  the  other 
side  of  the  valley,  were  heard  no  more;  and 
twenty  yards  from  Old  Pipes  one  could  scarcely 
tell  what  tune  he  was  playing.  He  had  become 
somewhat  deaf,  and  did  not  know  that  the  sound 
of  his  pipes  was  so  thin  and  weak,  and  that  the 
cattle  did  not  hear  him.  The  cows,  the  sheep, 
and  the  goats  came  down  every  afternoon  as  be 
fore,  but  this  was  because  two  boys  and  a  girl 
were  sent  up  after  them.  The  villagers  did  not 
wish  the  good  old  man  to  know  that  his  piping 
was  no  longer  of  any  use,  so  they  paid  him  his 
little  salary  every  month,  and  said  nothing  about 
the  two  boys  and  the  girl. 

Old  Pipes's  mother  was,  of  course,  a  great  deal 
older  than  he  was,  and  was  as  deaf  as  a  gate  — 
posts,  latch,  hinges,  and  all  —  and  she  never  knew 
that  the  sound  of  her  son's  pipe  did  not  spread 
over  all  the  mountain-side  and  echo  back  strong 
and  clear  from  the  opposite  hills.  She  was  very 
fond  of  Old  Pipes,  and  proud  of  his  piping ;  and 
as  he  was  so  much  younger  than  she  was,  she 
never  thought  of  him  as  being  very  old.  She 
cooked  for  him,  and  made  his  bed,  and  mended 
his  clothes ;  and  they  lived  very  comfortably  on 
his  little  salary. 

One  afternoon,  at  the  end  of  the  month,  when 


OLD  PIPES  AND  THE  DRYAD  169 

Old  Pipes  had  finished  his  piping,  he  took  his 
stout  staff  and  went  down  the  hill  to  the  village 
to  receive  the  money  for  his  month's  work.  The 
path  seemed  a  great  deal  steeper  and  more  dim- 
cult  than  it  used  to  be ;  and  Old  Pipes  thought 
that  it  must  have  been  washed  by  the  rains  and 
greatly  damaged.  He  remembered  it  as  a  path 
that  was  quite  easy  to  traverse  either  up  or  down. 
But  Old  Pipes  had  been  a  very  active  man,  and 
as  his  mother  was  so  much  older  than  he  was,  he 
never  thought  of  himself  as  aged  and  infirm. 

When  the  Chief  Villager  had  paid  him,  and  he 
had  talked  a  little  with  some  of  his  friends,  Old 
Pipes  started  to  go  home.  But  when  he  had 
crossed  the  bridge  over  the  brook  and  gone  a 
short  distance  up  the  hillside,  he  became  very 
tired  and  sat  down  upon  a  stone.  He  had  not 
been  sitting  there  half  a  minute  when  along  came 
two  boys  and  a  girl. 

"  Children,"  said  Old  Pipes,  "  I'm  very  tired 
to-night,  and  I  don't  believe  I  can  climb  up  this 
steep  path  to  my  home.  I  think  I  shall  have  to 
ask  you  to  help  me." 

"  We  will  do  that,"  said  the  boys  and  the  girl, 
quite  cheerfully;  and  one  boy  took  him  by  the 
right  hand  and  the  other  by  the  left,  while  the 
girl  pushed  him  in  the  back.  In  this  way  he 
went  up  the  hill  quite  easily,  and  soon  reached 
his  cottage  door.  Old  Pipes  gave  each  of  the 
three  children  a  copper  coin,  and  then  they  sat 


i7o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

down  for  a  few  minutes'  rest  before  starting  back 
to  the  village. 

"I'm  sorry  that  I  tired  you  so  much,"  said  Old 
Pipes. 

"  Oh,  that  would  not  have  tired  us,"  said  one 
of  the  boys,  "  if  we  had  not  been  so  far  to-day 
after  the  cows,  the  sheep,  and  the  goats.  They 
rambled  high  up  on  the  mountain,  and  we  never 
before  had  such  a  time  in  finding  them." 

"  Had  to  go  after  the  cows,  the  sheep,  and  the 
goats!  "  exclaimed  Old  Pipes.  "What  do  you 
mean  by  that?  " 

The  girl,  who  stood  behind  the  old  man,  shook 
her  head,  put  her  hand  on  her  mouth,  and  made 
all  sorts  of  signs  to  the  boy  to  stop  talking  on  this 
subject ;  but  he  did  not  notice  her  and  promptly 
answered  Old  Pipes. 

"  Why,  you  see,  good  sir,"  said  he,  "  that  as 
the  cattle  can't  hear  your  pipes  now,  somebody 
has  to  go  after  them  every  evening  to  drive  them 
down  from  the  mountain,  and  the  Chief  Villager 
has  hired  us  three  to  do  it.  Generally  it  is  not 
very  hard  work,  but  to-night  the  cattle  had  wan 
dered  far." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  doing  this?  "  asked 
the  old  man. 

The  girl  shook  her  head  and  clapped  her  hand 
on  her  mouth  more  vigorously  than  before,  but 
the  boy  went  on. 

"  I  think  it  is  about  a  year  now,"  he  said,  "  since 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  171 

the  people  first  felt  sure  that  the  cattle  could  not 
hear  your  pipes ;  and  from  that  time  we've  been 
driving  them  down.  But  we  are  rested  now  and 
will  go  home.  Good-night,  sir." 

The  three  children  then  went  down  the  hill, 
the  girl  scolding  the  boy  all  the  way  home.  Old 
Pipes  stood  silent  a  few  moments  and  then  he 
went  into  his  cottage. 

"  Mother,'1  he  shouted,  "did  you  hear  what 
those  children  said?  " 

"Children!  "  exclaimed  the  old  woman;  "I 
did  not  hear  them.  I  did  not  know  there  were 
any  children  here." 

Then  Old  Pipes  told  his  mother — shouting 
very  loudly  to  make  her  hear  —  how  the  two 
boys  and  the  girl  had  helped  him  up  the  hill, 
and  what  he  had  heard  about  his  piping  and  the 
cattle. 

"They  can't  hear  you?"  cried  his  mother. 
"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  the  cattle?  " 

"  Ah  me!  "  said  Old  Pipes,  "  I  don't  believe 
there's  anything  the  matter  with  the  cattle.  It 
must  be  with  me  and  my  pipes  that  there  is 
something  the  matter.  But  one  thing  is  certain  : 
if  I  do  not  earn  the  wages  the  Chief  Villager 
pays  me,  I  shall  not  take  them.  I  shall  go 
straight  down  to  the  village  and  give  back  the 
money  I  received  to-day." 

"  Nonsense!  "  cried  his  mother.  "  I'm  sure 
you've  piped  as  well  as  you  could,  and  no  more 


i/2  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

can  be  expected.  And  what  are  we  to  do  without 
the  money?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Old  Pipes;  "but  I'm 
going  down  to  the  village  to  pay  it  back." 

The  sun  had  now  set ;  but  the  moon  was  shin 
ing  very  brightly  on  the  hillside,  and  Old  Pipes 
could  see  his  way  very  well.  He  did  not  take 
the  same  path  by  which  he  had  gone  before,  but 
followed  another,  which  led  among  the  trees  upon 
the  hillside,  and,  though  longer,  was  not  so  steep. 

When  he  had  gone  about  half-way  the  old  man 
sat  down  to  rest,  leaning  his  back  against  a  great 
oak-tree.  As  he  did  so  he  heard  a  sound  like 
knocking  inside  the  tree,  and  then  a  voice  dis 
tinctly  said : 

"  Let  me  out!  let  me  out!  " 

Old  Pipes  instantly  forgot  that  he  was  tired, 
and  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  This  must  be  a  Dryad- 
tree!  "he  exclaimed.  "  If  it  is,  I'll  let  her  out." 

Old  Pipes  had  never,  to  his  knowledge,  seen  a 
Dryad-tree,  but  he  knew  there  were  such  trees  on 
the  hillsides  and  the  mountains,  and  that  Dryads 
lived  in  them.  He  knew,  too,  that  in  the  sum 
mer-time,  on  those  days  when  the  moon  rose  be 
fore  the  sun  went  down,  a  Dryad  could  come  out 
of  her  tree  if  any  one  could  find  the  key  which 
locked  her  in,  and  turn  it.  Old  Pipes  closely 
examined  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  which  stood  in 
the  full  moonlight.  "  If  I  see  that  key,"  he  said, 
"I  shall  surely  turn  it."  Before  long  he  per- 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  173 

ceived  a  piece  of  bark  standing  out  from  the  tree, 
which  appeared  to  him  very  much  like  the  handle 
of  a  key.  He  took  hold  of  it,  and  found  he  could 
turn  it  quite  around.  As  he  did  so  a  large  part 
of  the  side  of  the  tree  was  pushed  open,  and  a 
beautiful  Dryad  stepped  quickly  out. 

For  a  moment  she  stood  motionless,  gazing  on 
the  scene  before  her  —  the  tranquil  valley,  the 
hills,  the  forest,  and  the  mountain-side,  all  lying 
in  the  soft  clear  light  of  the  moon.  "  Oh,  lovely! 
lovely!  "  she  exclaimed.  "  How  long  it  is  since 
I  have  seen  anything  like  this !  "  And  then,  turn 
ing  to  Old  Pipes,  she  said,  "  How  good  of  you  to 
let  me  out!  I  am  so  happy  and  so  thankful  that 
I  must  kiss  you,  you  dear  old  man!  "  And  she 
threw  her  arms  around  the  neck  of  Old  Pipes  and 
kissed  him  on  both  cheeks.  "  You  don't  know," 
she  then  went  on  to  say,  "  how  doleful  it  is  to  be 
shut  up  so  long  in  a  tree.  I  don't  mind  it  in  the 
winter,  for  then  I  am  glad  to  be  sheltered ;  but  in 
summer  it  is  a  rueful  thing  not  to  be  able  to  see 
all  the  beauties  of  the  world.  And  it's  ever  so 
long  since  I've  been  let  out.  People  so  seldom 
come  this  way ;  and  when  they  do  come  at  the 
right  time  they  either  don't  hear  me,  or  they  are 
frightened  and  run  away.  But  you,  you  dear  old 
man,  you  were  not  frightened,  and  you  looked 
and  looked  for  the  key,  and  you  let  me  out,  and 
now  I  shall  not  have  to  go  back  till  winter  has 
come  and  the  air  grows  cold.  Oh,  it  is  glorious ! 


i74  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

What  can  I  do  for  you  to  show  you  how  grateful 
I  am?  " 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  Old  Pipes,  "  that  I  let 
you  out,  since  I  see  that  it  makes  you  so  happy ; 
but  I  must  admit  that  I  tried  to  find  the  key  be 
cause  I  had  a  great  desire  to  see  a  Dryad.  But 
if  you  wish  to  do  something  for  me,  you  can, 
if  you  happen  to  be  going  down  toward  the 
village." 

"  To  the  village!  "  exclaimed  the  Dryad.  "  I 
will  go  anywhere  for  you,  my  kind  old  bene 
factor." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Old  Pipes,  "  I  wish  you 
would  take  this  little  bag  of  money  to  the  Chief 
Villager  and  tell  him  that  Old  Pipes  cannot  re 
ceive  pay  for  the  services  which  he  does  not  per 
form.  It  is  now  more  than  a  year  that  I  have  not 
been  able  to  make  the  cattle  hear  me  when  I  piped 
to  call  them  home.  I  did  not  know  this  until  to 
night  ;  but  now  that  I  know  it  I  cannot  keep  the 
money,  and  so  I  send  it  back."  And,  handing 
the  little  bag  to  the  Dryad,  he  bade  her  good-night 
and  turned  toward  his  cottage. 

"  Good-night,"  said  the  Dryad.  "  And  I 
thank  you  over  and  over  and  over  again,  you 
good  old  man!  " 

Old  Pipes  walked  toward  his  home,  very  glad 
to  be  saved  the  fatigue  of  going  all  the  way  down 
to  the  village  and  back  again.  "To  be  sure," 
he  said  to  himself,  "  this  path  does  not  seem  at 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  175 

all  steep,  and  I  can  walk  along  it  very  easily ;  but 
it  would  have  tired  me  dreadfully  to  come  up  all 
the  way  from  the  village,  especially  as  I  could  not 
have  expected  those  children  to  help  me  again." 
When  he  reached  home  his  mother  was  surprised 
to  see  him  returning  so  soon. 

"  What!  "  she  exclaimed,  "  have  you  already 
come  back?  What  did  the  Chief  Villager  say? 
Did  he  take  the  money?  " 

Old  Pipes  was  just  about  to  tell  her  that  he  had 
sent  the  money  to  the  village  by  a  Dryad  when  he 
suddenly  reflected  that  his  mother  would  be  sure 
to  disapprove  such  a  proceeding,  and  so  he  merely 
said  he  had  sent  it  by  a  person  whom  he  had  met. 

"  And  how  do  you  know  that  the  person  will 
ever  take  it  to  the  Chief  Villager?  "  cried  his 
mother.  "  You  will  lose  it,  and  the  villagers 
will  never  get  it.  Oh,  Pipes!  Pipes!  when  will 
you  be  old  enough  to  have  ordinary  common 
sense?  " 

Old  Pipes  considered  that  as  he  was  already 
seventy  years  of  age  he  could  scarcely  expect  to 
grow  any  wiser,  but  he  made  no  remark  on  this 
subject ;  and,  saying  that  he  doubted  not  that  the 
money  would  go  safely  to  its  destination,  he  sat 
down  to  his  supper.  His  mother  scolded  him 
roundly,  but  he  did  not  mind  it ;  and  after  supper 
he  went  out  and  sat  on  a  rustic  chair  in  front  of 
the  cottage  to  look  at  the  moon-lit  village,  and  to 
wonder  whether  or  not  the  Chief  Villager  really 


i76  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

received  the  money.  While  he  was  doing  these 
two  things  he  went  fast  asleep. 

When  Old  Pipes  left  the  Dryad,  she  did  not  go 
down  to  the  village  with  the  little  bag  of  money. 
She  held  it  in  her  hand  and  thought  about  what 
she  had  heard.  "  This  is  a  good  and  honest  old 
man,"  she  said,  "  and  it  is  a  shame  that  he  should 
lose  this  money.  He  looked  as  if  he  needed  it, 
and  I  don't  believe  the  people  in  the  village  will 
take  it  from  one  who  has  served  them  so  long. 
Often,  when  in  my  tree,  have  I  heard  the  sweet 
notes  of  his  pipes.  I  am  going  to  take  the  money 
back  to  him."  She  did  not  start  immediately,  be 
cause  there  were  so  many  beautiful  things  to  look 
at ;  but  after  a  while  she  went  up  to  the  cottage, 
and,  finding  Old  Pipes  asleep  in  his  chair,  she 
slipped  the  little  bag  into  his  coat  pocket  and 
silently  sped  away. 

The  next  day  Old  Pipes  told  his  mother  that 
he  would  go  up  the  mountain  and  cut  some  wood. 
He  had  a  right  to  get  wood  from  the  mountain, 
but  for  a  long  time  he  had  been  content  to  pick 
up  the  dead  branches  which  lay  about  his  cottage. 
To-day,  however,  he  felt  so  strong  and  vigorous 
that  he  thought  he  would  go  and  cut  some  fuel 
that  would  be  better  than  this.  He  worked  all 
the  morning,  and  when  he  came  back  he  did  not 
feel  at  all  tired,  and  he  had  a  very  good  appetite 
for  his  dinner. 

Now,    Old   Pipes   knew   a   good    deal    about 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  177 

Dryads,  but  there  was  one  thing  which,  although 
he  had  heard,  he  had  forgotten.  This  was  that 
a  kiss  from  a  Dryad  made  a  person  ten  years 
younger.  The  people  of  the  village  knew  this, 
and  they  were  very  careful  not  to  let  any  child  of 
ten  years  or  younger  go  into  the  woods  where  the 
Dryads  were  supposed  to  be;  for  if  they  should 
chance  to  be  kissed  by  one  of  these  tree-nymphs, 
they  would  be  set  back  so  far  that  they  would 
cease  to  exist.  A  story  was  told  in  the  village 
that  a  very  bad  boy  of  eleven  once  ran  away  into 
the  woods  and  had  an  adventure  of  this  kind ;  and 
when  his  mother  found  him  he  was  a  little  baby 
of  one  year  old.  Taking  advantage  of  her  oppor 
tunity,  she  brought  him  up  more  carefully  than 
she  had  done  before ;  and  he  grew  to  be  a  very 
good  boy  indeed. 

Now,  Old  Pipes  had  been  kissed  twice  by  the 
Dryad,  once  on  each  cheek,  and  he  therefore  felt 
as  vigorous  and  active  as  when  he  was  a  hale  man 
of  fifty.  His  mother  noticed  how  much  work  he 
was  doing,  and  told  him  that  he  need  not  try  in 
that  way  to  make  up  for  the  loss  of  his  piping 
wages ;  for  he  would  only  tire  himself  out  and  get 
sick.  But  her  son  answered  that  he  had  not  felt 
so  well  for  years,  and  that  he  was  quite  able  to 
work.  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  Old  Pipes, 
for  the  first  time  that  clay,  put  his  hand  in  his 
coat  pocket,  and  there,  to  his  amazement,  he 
found  the  little  bag  of  money.  "  Well,  well!  " 


178  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

he  exclaimed,  "  I  am  stupid  indeed!  I  really 
thought  that  I  had  seen  a  Dryad ;  but  when  I  sat 
down  by  that  big  oak-tree  I  must  have  gone  to 
sleep  and  dreamed  it  all ;  and  then  I  came  home 
thinking  I  had  given  the  money  to  a  Dryad,  when 
it  was  in  my  pocket  all  the  time.  But  the  Chief 
Villager  shall  have  the  money.  I  shall  not  take 
it  to  him  to-day ;  but  to-morrow  I  wish  to  go  to 
the  village  to  see  some  of  my  old  friends,  and  then 
I  shall  give  up  the  money." 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon,  Old  Pipes, 
as  had  been  his  custom  for  so  many  years,  took 
his  pipes  from  the  shelf  on  which  they  lay,  and 
went  out  to  the  rock  in  front  of  the  cottage. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  cried  his  mother. 
"  If  you  will  not  consent  to  be  paid,  why  do  you 
pipe?" 

"  I  am  going  to  pipe  for  my  own  pleasure," 
said  her  son.  "  I  am  used  to  it,  and  I  do  not 
wish  to  give  it  up.  It  does  not  matter  now 
whether  the  cattle  hear  me  or  not,  and  I  am  sure 
that  my  piping  will  injure  no  one." 

When  the  good  man  began  to  play  upon  his 
favorite  instrument  he  was  astonished  at  the 
sound  that  came  from  it.  The  beautiful  notes 
of  the  pipes  sounded  clear  and  strong  down  into 
the  valley,  and  spread  over  the  hills  and  up  the 
sides  of  the  mountain  beyond,  while,  after  a  little 
interval,  an  echo  came  back  from  the  rocky  hill  on 
the  other  side  of  the  valley. 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  179 

"Ha!  ha!  "  he  cried,  "  what  has  happened  to 
my  pipes?  They  must  have  been  stopped  up  of 
late,  but  now  they  are  as  clear  and  good  as  ever." 

Again  the  merry  notes  went  sounding  far  and 
wide.  The  cattle  on  the  mountain  heard  them, 
and  those  that  were  old  enough  remembered  how 
these  notes  had  called  them  from  their  pastures 
every  evening,  and  so  they  started  down  the 
mountain -side,  the  others  following. 

The  merry  notes  were  heard  in  the  village 
below,  and  the  people  were  much  astonished 
thereby.  "  Why,  who  can  be  blowing  the  pipes 
of  Old  Pipes?  "  they  said.  But,  as  they  were  all 
very  busy,  no  one  went  up  to  see.  One  thing, 
however,  was  plain  enough :  the  cattle  were 
coming  down  the  mountain.  And  so  the  two 
boys  and  the  girl  did  not  have  to  go  after  them, 
and  had  an  hour  for  play,  for  which  they  were 
very  glad. 

The  next  morning  Old  Pipes  started  down  to 
the  village  with  his  money,  and  on  the  way  he 
met  the  Dryad.  "  Oh,  ho!  "  he  cried,  "  is  that 
you?  Why,  I  thought  my  letting  you  out  of  the 
tree  was  nothing  but  a  dream." 

"A  dream!  "  cried  the  Dryad;  "if  you  only 
knew  how  happy  you  have  made  me  you  would 
not  think  it  merely  a  dream.  And  has  it  not 
benefited  you?  Do  you  not  feel  happier?  Yes 
terday  I  heard  you  playing  beautifully  on  your 
pipes." 


i8o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  he.  "  I  did  not  understand 
it  before,  but  I  see  it  all  now.  I  have  really  grown 
younger.  I  thank  you,  I  thank  you,  good  Dryad, 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  It  was  the  finding 
of  the  money  in  my  pocket  that  made  me  think  it 
was  a  dream." 

"  Oh,  I  put  it  in  when  you  were  asleep,"  she 
said,  laughing,  "  because  I  thought  you  ought  to 
keep  it.  Good-by,  kind,  honest  man.  May  you 
live  long  and  be  as  happy  as  I  am  now." 

Old  Pipes  was  greatly  delighted  when  he  under 
stood  that  he  was  really  a  younger  man  ;  but  that 
made  no  difference  about  the  money,  and  he  kept 
on  his  way  to  the  village.  As  soon  as  he  reached 
it  he  was  eagerly  questioned  as  to  who  had  been 
playing  his  pipes  the  evening  before ;  and  when 
the  people  heard  that  it  was  himself,  they  were 
very  much  surprised.  Thereupon  Old  Pipes  told 
what  had  happened  to  him,  and  then  there  was 
greater  wonder,  with  hearty  congratulations  and 
hand-shakes ;  for  Old  Pipes  was  liked  by  every 
one.  The  Chief  Villager  refused  to  take  his 
money,  and,  although  Old  Pipes  said  that  he  had 
not  earned  it,  every  one  present  insisted  that,  as 
he  would  now  play  on  his  pipes  as  before,  he 
should  lose  nothing  because,  for  a  time,  he  was 
unable  to  perform  his  duty. 

So  Old  Pipes  was  obliged  to  keep  his  money, 
and  after  an  hour  or  two  spent  in  conversation 
with  his  friends,  he  returned  to  his  cottage. 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  181 

There  was  one  individual,  however,  who  was 
not  at  all  pleased  with  what  had  happened  to  Old 
Pipes.  This  was  an  Echo-dwarf,  who  lived  on 
the  hills  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley,  and 
whose  duty  it  was  to  echo  back  the  notes  of  the 
pipes  whenever  they  could  be  heard.  There  were 
a  great  many  other  Echo-dwarfs  on  these  hills, 
some  of  whom  echoed  back  the  songs  of  maidens, 
some  the  shouts  of  children,  and  others  the  music 
that  was  often  heard  in  the  village.  But  there  was 
only  one  who  could  send  back  the  strong  notes  of 
the  pipes  of  Old  Pipes,  and  this  had  been  his  sole 
duty  for  many  years.  But  when  the  old  man  grew 
feeble,  and  the  notes  of  his  pipes  could  not  be 
heard  on  the  opposite  hills,  this  Echo-dwarf  had 
nothing  to  do,  and  he  spent  his  time  in  delightful 
idleness ;  and  he  slept  so  much  and  grew  so  fat 
that  it  made  his  companions  laugh  to  see  him  walk. 

On  the  afternoon  on  which,  after  so  long  an 
interval,  the  sound  of  the  pipes  was  heard  on  the 
echo-hills,  this  dwarf  was  fast  asleep  behind  a 
rock.  As  soon  as  the  first  notes  reached  them, 
some  of  his  companions  ran  to  wake  him.  Roll 
ing  to  his  feet,  he  echoed  back  the  merry  tune  of 
Old  Pipes.  Naturally  he  was  very  much  an 
noyed  and  indignant  at  being  thus  obliged  to 
give  up  his  life  of  comfortable  leisure,  and  he 
hoped  very  much  that  this  pipe-playing  would  not 
occur  again.  The  next  afternoon  he  was  awake 
and  listening,  and,  sure  enough,  at  the  usual 


1 82  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

hour,  along  came  the  notes  of  the  pipes  as  clear 
and  strong  as  they  ever  had  been ;  and  he  was 
obliged  to  work  as  long  as  Old  Pipes  played. 
The  Echo-dwarf  was  very  angry.  He  had  sup 
posed,  of  course,  that  the  pipe-playing  had  ceased 
forever,  and  he  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to  be  in 
dignant  at  being  thus  deceived.  He  was  so  much 
disturbed  that  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  and  try 
to  find  out  whether  this  was  to  be  a  temporary 
matter  or  not.  He  had  plenty  of  time,  as  the 
pipes  were  played  but  once  a  day,  and  he  set  off 
early  in  the  morning  for  the  hill  on  which  Old 
Pipes  lived.  It  was  hard  work  for  the  fat  little 
fellow,  and  when  he  had  crossed  the  valley  and 
had  gone  some  distance  into  the  woods  on  the 
hillside,  he  stopped  to  rest,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  Dryad  came  tripping  along. 

"  Ho,  ho!  "  exclaimed  the  dwarf;  "  what  are 
you  doing  here?  and  how  did  you  get  out  of  your 
tree?  " 

"  Doing!  "  cried  the  Dryad,  "  I  am  being 
happy ;  that's  what  I  am  doing.  And  I  was  let 
out  of  my  tree  by  a  good  old  man  who  plays  the 
pipes  to  call  the  cattle  down  from  the  mountain. 
And  it  makes  me  happier  to  think  that  I  have 
been  of  service  to  him.  I  gave  him  two  kisses  of 
gratitude,  and  now  he  is  young  enough  to  play 
his  pipes  as  well  as  ever." 

The  Echo-dwarf  stepped  forward,  his  face  pale 
with  passion.  "  Am  I  to  believe,"  he  said,  "  that 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  183 

you  are  the  cause  of  this  great  evil  that  has  come 
upon  me?  and  that  you  are  the  wicked  creature 
who  has  again  started  this  old  man  upon  his 
career  of  pipe-playing?  What  have  I  ever  done 
to  you  that  you  should  have  condemned  me  for 
years  and  years  to  echo  back  the  notes  of  those 
wretched  pipes?  " 

At  this  the  Dryad  laughed  loudly. 

"  What  a  funny  little  fellow  you  are!  "  she  said. 
"  Any  one  would  think  you  had  been  condemned 
to  toil  from  morning  till  night ;  while  what  you 
really  have  to  do  is  merely  to  imitate  for  half  an 
hour  every  day  the  merry  notes  of  Old  Pipes's 
piping.  Fie  upon  you,  Echo-dwarf!  You  are 
lazy  and  selfish ;  and  that  is  what  is  the  matter 
with  you.  Instead  of  grumbling  at  being  obliged 
to  do  a  little  wholesome  work  —  which  is  less,  I 
am  sure,  than  that  of  any  other  Echo-dwarf  upon 
the  rocky  hillside  —  you  should  rejoice  at  the 
good  fortune  of  the  old  man  who  has  regained  so 
much  of  his  strength  and  vigor.  Go  home  and 
learn  to  be  just  and  generous  ;  and  then,  perhaps, 
you  may  be  happy.  Good-by. " 

"  Insolent  creature!  "  shouted  the  dwarf,  as  he 
shook  his  fat  little  fist  at  her.  "I'll  make  you 
suffer  for  this.  You  shall  find  out  what  it  is  to 
heap  injury  and  insult  upon  one  like  me,  and  to 
snatch  from  him  the  repose  that  he  has  earned 
by  long  years  of  toil."  And,  shaking  his  head 
savagely,  he  hurried  back  to  the  rocky  hillside. 


1 84  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

Every  afternoon  the  merry  notes  of  the  pipes  of 
Old  Pipes  sounded  down  into  the  valley  and  over 
the  hills  and  up  the  mountain-side ;  and  every 
afternoon  when  he  had  echoed  them  back,  the 
little  dwarf  grew  more  and  more  angry  with  the 
Dryad.  Each  day,  from  early  morning  till  it  was 
time  for  him  to  go  back  to  his  duties  upon  the 
rocky  hillside,  he  searched  the  woods  for  her. 
He  intended,  if  he  met  her,  to  pretend  to  be  very 
sorry  for  what  he  had  said,  and  he  thought  he 
might  be  able  to  play  a  trick  upon  her  which 
would  avenge  him  well.  One  day,  while  thus 
wandering  among  the  trees,  he  met  Old  Pipes. 
The  Echo-dwarf  did  not  generally  care  to  see 
or  speak  to  ordinary  people ;  but  now  he  was  so 
anxious  to  find  the  object  of  his  search  that  he 
stopped  and  asked  Old  Pipes  if  he  had  seen  the 
Dryad.  The  piper  had  not  noticed  the  little 
fellow,  and  he  looked  down  on  him  with  some 
surprise. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  have  not  seen  her,  and  I 
have  been  looking  everywhere  for  her." 

"  You!  "  cried  the  dwarf;  "  what  do  you  wish 
with  her?  " 

Old  Pipes  then  sat  down  on  a  stone,  so  that 
he  should  be  nearer  the  ear  of  his  small  com 
panion,  and  he  told  what  the  Dryad  had  done  for 
him. 

When  the  Echo-dwarf  heard  that  this  was  the 
man  whose  pipes  he  was  obliged  to  echo  back 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  185 

every  day,  he  would  have  slain  him  on  the  spot 
had  he  been  able ;  but,  as  he  was  not  able,  he 
merely  ground  his  teeth  and  listened  to  the  rest 
of  the  story. 

"  I  am  looking  for  the  Dryad  now,"  Old  Pipes 
continued,  "  on  account  of  my  aged  mother. 
When  I  was  old  myself,  I  did  not  notice  how 
very  old  my  mother  was ;  but  now  it  shocks  me 
to  see  how  feeble  and  decrepit  her  years  have 
caused  her  to  become ;  and  I  am  looking  for  the 
Dryad  to  ask  her  to  make  my  mother  younger,  as 
she  made  me." 

The  eyes  of  the  Echo-dwarf  glistened.  Here 
was  a  man  who  might  help  him  in  his  plans. 

"  Your  idea  is  a  good  one,"  he  said  to  Old 
Pipes,  "  and  it  does  you  honor.  But  you  should 
know  that  a  Dryad  can  make  no  person  younger 
but  one  who  lets  her  out  of  her  tree.  However, 
you  can  manage  the  affair  very  easily.  All  you 
need  do  is  to  find  the  Dryad,  tell  her  what  you 
want,  and  request  her  to  step  into  her  tree  and  be 
shut  up  for  a  short  time.  Then  you  will  go  and 
bring  your  mother  to  the  tree ;  she  will  open  it, 
and  everything  will  be  as  you  wish.  Is  not  this 
a  good  plan?  " 

"Excellent!  "  cried  Old  Pipes;  "and  I  will 
go  instantly  and  search  more  diligently  for  the 
Dryad." 

"Take  me  with  you,"  said  the  Echo-dwarf. 
"  You  can  easily  carry  me  on  your  strong  shoul- 


i86  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

ders ;  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  help  you  in  any  way 
that  lean." 

"  Now,  then,"  said  the  little  fellow  to  himself, 
as  Old  Pipes  carried  him  rapidly  along,  "if  he 
persuades  the  Dryad  to  get  into  a  tree  —  and  she 
is  quite  foolish  enough  to  do  it  —  and  then  goes 
away  to  bring  his  mother,  I  shall  take  a  stone  or 
a  club  and  I  will  break  off  the  key  of  that  tree, 
so  that  nobody  can  ever  turn  it  again.  Then 
Mistress  Dryad  will  see  what  she  has  brought 
upon  herself  by  her  behavior  to  me." 

Before  long  they  came  to  the  great  oak-tree  in 
which  the  Dryad  had  lived,  and,  at  a  distance, 
they  saw  that  beautiful  creature  herself  coming 
toward  them. 

"  How  excellently  well  everything  happens!  " 
said  the  dwarf.  "  Put  me  down,  and  I  will  go. 
Your  business  with  the  Dryad  is  more  important 
than  mine ;  and  you  need  not  say  anything  about 
my  having  suggested  your  plan  to  you.  I  am 
willing  that  you  should  have  all  the  credit  of  it 
yourself." 

Old  Pipes  put  the  Echo-dwarf  upon  the  ground, 
but  the  little  rogue  did  not  go  away.  He  con 
cealed  himself  between  some  low,  mossy  rocks, 
and  he  was  so  much  of  their  color  that  you  would 
not  have  noticed  him  if  you  had  been  looking 
straight  at  him. 

When  the  Dryad  came  up,  Old  Pipes  lost  no 
time  in  telling  her  about  his  mother,  and  what 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  187 

he  wished  her  to  do.  At  first  the  Dryad  answered 
nothing,  but  stood  looking  very  sadly  at  Old 
Pipes. 

"  Do  you  really  wish  me  to  go  into  my  tree 
again?  "  she  said.  "  I  should  dreadfully  dislike 
to  do  it,  for  I  don't  know  what  might  happen. 
It  is  not  at  all  necessary,  for  I  could  make  your 
mother  younger  at  any  time  if  she  would  give  me 
the  opportunity.  I  had  already  thought  of  mak 
ing  you  still  happier  in  this  way,  and  several 
times  I  have  waited  about  your  cottage,  hoping 
to  meet  your  aged  mother ;  but  she  never  comes 
outside,  and  you  know  a  Dryad  cannot  enter  a 
house.  I  cannot  imagine  what  put  this  idea 
into  your  head.  Did  you  think  of  it  your 
self?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot  say  that  I  did,"  answered  Old 
Pipes.  "  A  little  dwarf  whom  I  met  in  the  woods 
proposed  it  to  me." 

"  Oh!  "  cried  the  Dryad,  "  now  I  see  through 
it  all.  It  is  the  scheme  of  that  vile  Echo-dwarf 
—  your  enemy  and  mine.  Where  is  he?  I  should 
like  to  see  him." 

"  I  think  he  has  gone  away,"  said  Old  Pipes. 

"  No,  he  has  not,"  said  the  Dryad,  whose 
quick  eyes  perceived  the  Echo-dwarf  among  the 
rocks.  "  There  he  is.  Seize  him  and  drag  him 
out,  I  beg  of  you." 

Old  Pipes  perceived  the  dwarf  as  soon  as  he 
was  pointed  out  to  him,  and,  running  to  the 


i88  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

rocks,  he  caught  the  little  fellow  by  the  arm  and 
pulled  him  out. 

"Now,  then,"  cried  the  Dryad,  who  had 
opened  the  door  of  the  great  oak,  ' '  just  stick 
him  in  there  and  we  will  shut  him  up.  Then  I 
shall  be  safe  from  his  mischief  for  the  rest  of  the 
time  I  am  free." 

Old  Pipes  thrust  the  Echo-dwarf  into  the  tree ; 
the  Dryad  pushed  the  door  shut ;  there  was  a 
clicking  sound  of  bark  and  wood,  and  no  one 
would  have  noticed  that  the  big  oak  had  ever  had 
an  opening  in  it. 

"  There  ! "  said  the  Dryad ;  "  now  we  need  not 
be  afraid  of  him.  And  I  assure  you,  my  good 
piper,  that  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  make  your 
mother  younger  as  soon  as  I  can.  Will  you  not 
ask  her  to  come  out  and  meet  me?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  cried  Old  Pipes ;  "  and  I 
will  do  it  without  delay." 

And  then,  the  Dryad  by  his  side,  he  hurried  to 
his  cottage.  But  when  he  mentioned  the  matter 
to  his  mother,  the  old  woman  became  very  angry 
indeed.  She  did  not  believe  in  Dryads ;  and,  if 
they  really  did  exist,  she  knew  they  must  be 
witches  and  sorceresses,  and  she  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  them.  If  her  son  had  ever 
allowed  himself  to  be  kissed  by  one  of  them,  he 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself.  As  to  its  doing 
him  the  least  bit  of  good,  she  did  not  believe  a 
word  of  it.  He  felt  better  than  he  used  to  feel, 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  189 

but  that  was  very  common ;  she  had  sometimes 
felt  that  way  herself.  And  she  forbade  him  ever 
to  mention  a  Dryad  to  her  again. 

That  afternoon  Old  Pipes,  feeling  very  sad  that 
his  plan  in  regard  to  his  mother  had  failed,  sat 
down  upon  the  rock  and  played  upon  his  pipes. 
The  pleasant  sounds  went  down  the  valley  and  up 
the  hills  and  mountain,  but,  to  the  great  surprise 
of  some  persons  who  happened  to  notice  the  fact, 
the  notes  were  not  echoed  back  from  the  rocky 
hillside,  but  from  the  woods  on  the  side  of  the 
valley  on  which  Old  Pipes  lived.  The  next  day 
many  of  the  villagers  stopped  in  their  work  to 
listen  to  the  echo  of  the  pipes  coming  from  the 
woods.  The  sound  was  not  as  clear  and  strong 
as  it  used  to  be  when  it  was  sent  back  from  the 
rocky  hillside,  but  it  certainly  came  from  among 
the  trees.  Such  a  thing  as  an  echo  changing  its 
place  in  this  way  had  never  been  heard  of  before, 
and  nobody  was  able  to  explain  how  it  could  have 
happened.  Old  Pipes,  however,  knew  very  well 
that  the  sound  came  from  the  Echo-dwarf  shut  up 
in  the  great  oak-tree.  The  sides  of  the  tree  were 
thin,  and  the  sound  of  the  pipes  could  be  heard 
through  them,  and  the  dwarf  was  obliged  by  the 
laws  of  his  being  to  echo  back  those  notes  when 
ever  they  came  to  him.  But  Old  Pipes  thought 
he  might  get  the  Dryad  in  trouble  if  he  let  any 
one  know  that  the  Echo-dwarf  was  shut  up  in 
the  tree,  and  so  he  wisely  said  nothing  about  it. 


190  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

One  day  the  two  boys  and  the  girl  who  had 
helped  Old  Pipes  up  the  hill  were  playing  in  the 
woods.  Stopping  near  the  great  oak-tree,  they 
heard  a  sound  of  knocking  within  it,  and  then  a 
voice  plainly  said : 

"  Let  me  out!  let  me  out!  " 

For  a  moment  the  children  stood  still  in  aston 
ishment,  and  then  one  of  the  boys  exclaimed : 

"  Oh,  it  is  a  Dryad,  like  the  one  Old  Pipes 
found!  Let's  let  her  out!  " 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  cried  the  girl. 
"  I  am  the  oldest  of  all,  and  I  am  only  thirteen. 
Do  you  wish  to  be  turned  into  crawling  babies? 
Run!  run!  run!  " 

And  the  two  boys  and  the  girl  dashed  down 
into  the  valley  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry 
them.  There  was  no  desire  in  their  youthful 
hearts  to  be  made  younger  than  they  were.  And 
for  fear  that  their  parents  might  think  it  well  that 
they  should  commence  their  careers  anew,  they 
never  said  a  word  about  finding  the  Dryad-tree. 

As  the  summer  days  went  on  Old  Pipes 's 
mother  grew  feebler  and  feebler.  One  day  when 
her  son  was  away  —  for  he  now  frequently  went 
into  the  woods  to  hunt  or  fish,  or  down  into  the 
valley  to  work — she  arose  from  her  knitting  to 
prepare  the  simple  dinner.  But  she  felt  so  weak 
and  tired  that  she  was  not  able  to  do  the  work  to 
which  she  had  been  so  long  accustomed.  "  Alas! 
alas!  "  she  said,  "  the  time  has  come  when  I  am 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  191 

too  old  to  work.  My  son  will  have  to  hire  some 
one  to  come  here  and  cook  his  meals,  make  his 
bed,  and  mend  his  clothes.  Alas!  alas!  I  had 
hoped  that  as  long  as  I  lived  I  should  be  able  to 
do  these  things.  But  it  is  not  so.  I  have  grown 
utterly  worthless,  and  some  one  else  must  pre 
pare  the  dinner  for  my  son.  I  wonder  where  he 
is."  And  tottering  to  the  door,  she  went  outside 
to  look  for  him.  She  did  not  feel  able  to  stand, 
and  reaching  the  rustic  chair,  she  sank  into  it, 
quite  exhausted,  and  soon  fell  asleep. 

The  Dryad,  who  had  often  come  to  the  cottage 
to  see  if  she  could  find  an  opportunity  of  carrying 
out  Old  Pipes's  affectionate  design,  now  happened 
by;  and  seeing  that  the  much-desired  occasion 
had  come,  she  stepped  up  quietly  behind  the  old 
woman  and  gently  kissed  her  on  each  cheek,  and 
then  as  quietly  disappeared. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  mother  of  Old  Pipes 
awoke,  and  looking  up  at  the  sun,  she  exclaimed, 
"  Why,  it  is  almost  dinner-time!  My  son  will 
be  here  directly,  and  I  am  not  ready  for  him." 
And  rising  to  her  feet,  she  hurried  into  the  house, 
made  the  fire,  set  the  meat  and  vegetables  to  cook, 
laid  the  cloth,  and  by  the  time  her  son  arrived  the 
meal  was  on  the  table. 

"  How  a  little  sleep  does  refresh  one!"  she 
said  to  herself,  as  she  was  bustling  about.  She 
was  a  woman  of  very  vigorous  constitution,  and 
at  seventy  had  been  a  great  deal  stronger  and 


igz  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

more  active  than  her  son  was  at  that  age.  The 
moment  Old  Pipes  saw  his  mother,  he  knew  that 
the  Dryad  had  been  there;  but,  while  he  felt  as 
happy  as  a  king,  he  was  too  wise  to  say  anything 
about  her. 

"  It  is  astonishing  how  well  I  feel  to-day,"  said 
his  mother ; ' '  and  either  my  hearing  has  improved 
or  you  speak  much  more  plainly  than  you  have 
done  of  late." 

The  summer  days  went  on  and  passed  away, 
the  leaves  were  falling  from  the  trees,  and  the  air 
was  becoming  cold. 

"  Nature  has  ceased  to  be  lovely,"  said  the 
Dryad,  "and  the  night  winds  chill  me.  It  is 
time  for  me  to  go  back  into  my  comfortable 
quarters  in  the  great  oak.  But  first  I  must  pay 
another  visit  to  the  cottage  of  Old  Pipes." 

She  found  the  piper  and  his  mother  sitting  side 
by  side  on  the  rock  in  front  of  the  door.  The 
cattle  were  not  to  go  to  the  mountain  any  more 
that  season,  and  he  was  piping  them  down  for 
the  last  time.  Loud  and  merrily  sounded  the 
pipes  of  Old  Pipes,  and  down  the  mountain-side 
came  thfi  cattle,  the  cows  by  the  easiest  paths, 
the  sheep  by  those  not  quite  so  easy,  and  the 
goats  by  the  most  difficult  ones  among  the  rocks  ; 
while  from  the  great  oak-tree  were  heard  the 
echoes  of  the  cheerful  music. 

"  How  happy  they  look,  sitting  there  together!" 
said  the  Dryad;  "  and  I  don't  believe  it  will  do 


OLD  PIPES  AND   THE  DRYAD  193 

them  a  bit  of  harm  to  be  still  younger."  And 
moving  quietly  up  behind  them,  she  first  kissed 
Old  Pipes  on  his  cheek  and  then  his  mother. 

Old  Pipes,  who  had  stopped  playing,  knew 
what  it  was,  but  he  did  not  move,  and  said  noth 
ing.  His  mother,  thinking  that  her  son  had 
kissed  her,  turned  to  him  with  a  smile  and  kissed 
him  in  return.  And  then  she  arose  and  went  into 
the  cottage,  a  vigorous  woman  of  sixty,  followed 
by  her  son,  erect  and  happy,  and  twenty  years 
younger  than  herself. 

The  Dryad  sped  away  to  the  woods,  shrug 
ging  her  shoulders  as  she  felt  the  cool  evening 
wind. 

When  she  reached  the  great  oak,  she  turned 
the  key  and  opened  the  door.  "Come  out," 
she  said  to  the  Echo-dwarf,  who  sat  blinking 
within.  ' '  Winter  is  coming  on,  and  I  want  the 
comfortable  shelter  of  my  tree  for  myself.  The 
cattle  have  come  down  from  the  mountain  for  the 
last  time  this  year,  the  pipes  will  no  longer 
sound,  and  you  can  go  to  your  rocks  and  have  a 
holiday  until  next  spring." 

Upon  hearing  these  words  the  dwarf  skipped 
quickly  out,  and  the  Dryad  entered  the  tree  and 
pulled  the  door  shut  after  her.  "  Now,  then," 
she  said  to  herself,  "  he  can  break  off  the  key  if 
he  likes.  It  does  not  matter  to  me.  Another 
will  grow  out  next  spring.  And  although  the 
good  piper  made  me  no  promise,  I  know  that 


194  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

when  the  warm  days    arrive  next  year  he  will 
come  and  let  me  out  again." 

The  Echo-dwarf  did  not  stop  to  break  the  key 
of  the  tree.  He  was  too  happy  to  be  released  to 
think  of  anything  else,  and  he  hastened  as  fast  as 
he  could  to  his  home  on  the  rocky  hillside. 

The  Dryad  was  not  mistaken  when  she  trusted 
in  the  piper.  When  the  warm  days  came  again 
he  went  to  the  oak-tree  to  let  her  out.  But,  to 
his  sorrow  and  surprise,  he  found  the  great  tree 
lying  upon  the  ground.  A  winter  storm  had 
blown  it  down,  and  it  lay  with  its  trunk  shattered 
and  split.  And  what  became  of  the  Dryad  no 
one  ever  knew. 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST 


THE   TRANSFERRED    GHOST 


HE  country  residence  of  Mr.  John 
Hinckman  was  a  delightful  place  to 
me,  for  many  reasons.  It  was  the 
abode  of  a  genial,  though  somewhat 
impulsive,  hospitality.  It  had  broad,  smooth- 
shaven  lawns  and  towering  oaks  and  elms  ;  there 
were  bosky  shades  at  several  points,  and  not  far 
from  the  house  there  was  a  little  rill  spanned  by 
a  rustic  bridge  with  the  bark  on ;  there  were 
fruits  and  flowers,  pleasant  people,  chess,  bil 
liards,  rides,  walks,  and  fishing.  These  were 
great  attractions ;  but  none  of  them,  nor  all  of 
them  together,  would  have  been  sufficient  to 
hold  me  to  the  place  very  long.  I  had  been 
invited  for  the  trout  season,  but  should  probably 
have  finished  my  visit  early  in  the  summer  had  it 
not  been  that  upon  fair  days,  when  the  grass  was 
dry,  and  the  sun  was  not  too  hot,  and  there  was 
but  little  wind,  there  strolled  beneath  the  lofty 


198  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

elms,  or  passed  lightly  through  the  bosky  shades, 
the  form  of  my  Madeline. 

This  lady  was  not,  in  very  truth,  my  Madeline. 
She  had  never  given  herself  to  me,  nor  had  I,  in 
any  way,  acquired  possession  of  her.  But  as  I 
considered  her  possession  the  only  sufficient  rea 
son  for  the  continuance  of  my  existence,  I  called 
her,  in  my  reveries,  mine.  It  may  have  been 
that  I  would  not  have  been  obliged  to  confine  the 
use  of  this  possessive  pronoun  to  my  reveries 
had  I  confessed  the  state  of  my  feelings  to  the 
lady. 

But  this  was  an  unusually  difficult  thing  to  do. 
Not  only  did  I  dread,  as  almost  all  lovers  dread, 
taking  the  step  which  would  in  an  instant  put  an 
end  to  that  delightful  season  which  may  be  termed 
the  ante-interrogatory  period  of  love,  and  which 
might  at  the  same  time  terminate  all  intercourse 
or  connection  with  the  object  of  my  passion,  but 
I  was  also  dreadfully  afraid  of  John  Hinckman. 
This  gentleman  was  a  good  friend  of  mine,  but 
it  would  have  required  a  bolder  man  than  I  was 
at  that  time  to  ask  him  for  the  gift  of  his  niece, 
who  was  the  head  of  his  household,  and,  accord 
ing  to  his  own  frequent  statement,  the  main  prop 
of  his  declining  years.  Had  Madeline  acquiesced 
in  my  general  views  on  the  subject,  I  might  have 
felt  encouraged  to  open  the  matter  to  Mr.  Hinck 
man  ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  I  had  never  asked  her 
whether  or  not  she  would  be  mine.  I  thought  of 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  199 

these  things  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  night, 
particularly  the  latter. 

I  was  lying  awake  one  night,  in  the  great  bed 
in  my  spacious  chamber,  when,  by  the  dim  light 
of  the  new  moon,  which  partially  filled  the  room, 
I  saw  John  Hinckman  standing  by  a  large  chair 
near  the  door.  I  was  very  much  surprised  at  this, 
for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  my  host  had 
never  before  come  into  my  room ;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  he  had  gone  from  home  that  morn 
ing,  and  had  not  expected  to  return  for  several 
days.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  I  had  been 
able  that  evening  to  sit  much  later  than  usual 
with  Madeline  on  the  moon-lit  porch.  The  figure 
was  certainly  that  of  John  Hinckman  in  his  or 
dinary  dress,  but  there  was  a  vagueness  and  in 
distinctness  about  it  which  presently  assured  me 
that  it  was  a  ghost.  Had  the  good  old  man  been 
murdered?  and  had  his  spirit  come  to  tell  me  of 
the  deed,  and  to  confide  to  me  the  protection  of 
his  dear  — ?  My  heart  fluttered  at  what  I  was 
about  to  think,  but  at  this  instant  the  figure 
spoke. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  with  a  countenance 
that  indicated  anxiety,  "if  Mr.  Hinckman  will 
return  to-night?  " 

I  thought  it  well  to  maintain  a  calm  exterior, 
and  I  answered : 

"  We  do  not  expect  him." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  he,  sinking  into  the 


200  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

chair  by  which  he  stood.  "  During  the  two  years 
and  a  half  that  I  have  inhabited  this  house,  that 
man  has  never  before  been  away  for  a  single 
night.  You  can't  imagine  the  relief  it  gives  me." 

And  as  he  spoke  he  stretched  out  his  legs  and 
leaned  back  in  the  chair.  His  form  became  less 
vague,  and  the  colors  of  his  garments  more  dis 
tinct  and  evident,  w-hile  an  expression  of  gratified 
relief  succeeded  to  the  anxiety  of  his  countenance. 

"Two  years  and  a  half!  "  I  exclaimed.  "  I 
don't  understand  you." 

"It  is  fully  that  length  of  time,"  said  the 
ghost,  "  since  I  first  came  here.  Mine  is  not  an 
ordinary  case.  But  before  I  say  anything  more 
about  it,  let  me  ask  you  again  if  you  are  sure  Mr. 
Hinckman  will  not  return  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  am  as  sure  of  it  as  I  can  be  of  anything," 
I  answered.  "He  left  to-day  for  Bristol,  two 
hundred  miles  away." 

"  Then  I  will  go  on,"  said  the  ghost,  "  for  I 
am  glad  to  have  the  opportunity  of  talking  to 
some  one  who  will  listen  to  me;  but  if  John 
Hinckman  should  come  in  and  catch  me  here  I 
should  be  frightened  out  of  my  wits." 

"This  is  all  very  strange,"  I  said,  greatly 
puzzled  by  what  I  had  heard.  "Are  you  the 
ghost  of  Mr.  Hinckman?  " 

This  was  a  bold  question,  but  my  mind  was  so 
full  of  other  emotions  that  there  seemed  to  be  no 
room  for  that  of  fear. 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  201 

"  Yes,  I  am  his  ghost,"  my  companion  replied, 
"  and  yet  I  have  no  right  to  be.  And  this  is  what 
makes  me  so  uneasy,  and  so  much  afraid  of  him. 
It  is  a  strange  story,  and,  I  truly  believe,  without 
precedent.  Two  years  and  a  half  ago  John  Hinck- 
man  was  dangerously  ill  in  this  very  room.  At 
one  time  he  was  so  far  gone  that  he  was  really 
believed  to  be  dead.  It  was  in  consequence  of 
too  precipitate  a  report  in  regard  to  this  matter 
that  I  was,  at  that  time,  appointed  to  be  his 
ghost.  Imagine  my  surprise  and  horror,  sir, 
when,  after  I  had  accepted  the  position  and  as 
sumed  its  responsibilities,  that  old  man  revived, 
became  convalescent,  and  eventually  regained  his 
usual  health.  My  situation  was  now  one  of  ex 
treme  delicacy  and  embarrassment.  I  had  no 
power  to  return  to  my  original  unembodiment, 
and  I  had  no  right  to  be  the  ghost  of  a  man  who 
was  not  dead.  I  was  advised  by  my  friends  to 
quietly  maintain  my  position,  and  was  assured 
that,  as  John  Hinckman  was  an  elderly  man,  it 
could  not  be  long  before  I  could  rightfully  as 
sume  the  position  for  which  I  had  been  selected. 
But  I  tell  you,  sir,"  he  continued,  with  animation, 
"  the  old  fellow  seems  as  vigorous  as  ever,  and  I 
have  no  idea  how  much  longer  this  annoying  state 
of  things  will  continue.  I  spend  my  time  trying 
to  get  out  of  that  old  man's  way.  I  must  not 
leave  this  house,  and  he  seems  to  follow  me 
everywhere.  I  tell  you,  sir,  he  haunts  me." 


202  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  That  is  truly  a  queer  state  of  things,"  I  re 
marked.  "  But  why  are  you  afraid  of  him?  He 
couldn't  hurt  you." 

"  Of  course  he  couldn't,"  said  the  ghost.  "  But 
his  very  presence  is  a  shock  and  terror  to  me. 
Imagine,  sir,  how  you  would  feel  if  my  case  were 
yours." 

I  could  not  imagine  such  a  thing  at  all.  I 
simply  shuddered. 

"  And  if  one  must  be  a  wrongful  ghost  at  all," 
the  apparition  continued,  ' '  it  would  be  much 
pleasanter  to  be  the  ghost  of  some  man  other 
than  John  Hinckman.  There  is  in  him  an  iras 
cibility  of  temper,  accompanied  by  a  facility  of 
invective,  which  is  seldom  met  with.  And  what 
would  happen  if  he  were  to  see  me,  and  find  out, 
as  I  am  sure  he  would,  how  long  and  why  I  had 
inhabited  his  house,  I  can  scarcely  conceive.  I 
have  seen  him  in  his  bursts  of  passion ;  and,  al 
though  he  did  not  hurt  the  people  he  stormed  at 
any  more  than  he  would  hurt  me,  they  seemed  to 
shrink  before  him." 

All  this  I  knew  to  be  very  true.  Had  it  not 
been  for  this  peculiarity  of  Mr.  Hinckman  I 
might  have  been  more  willing  to  talk  to  him  about 
his  niece. 

"  I  feel  sorry  for  you,"  I  said,  for  I  really  be 
gan  to  have  a  sympathetic  feeling  toward  this  un 
fortunate  apparition.  "  Your  case  is  indeed  a  hard 
one.  It  reminds  me  of  those  persons  who  have 


THE   TRANSFERRED  GHOST  203 

had  doubles,  and  I  suppose  a  man  would  often  be 
very  angry  indeed  when  he  found  that  there  was 
another  being  who  was  personating  himself." 

"  Oh,  the  cases  are  not  similar  at  all,"  said 
the  ghost.  "  A  double  or  doppelganger  lives  on 
the  earth  with  a  man,  and,  being  exactly  like 
him,  he  makes  all  sorts  of  trouble,  of  course.  It 
is  very  different  with  me.  I  am  not  here  to  live 
with  Mr.  Hinckman.  I  am  here  to  take  his 
place.  Now,  it  would  make  John  Hinckman 
very  angry  if  he  knew  that.  Don't  you  know  it 
would?  " 

I  assented  promptly. 

"  Now  that  he  is  away  I  can  be  easy  for  a  little 
while,"  continued  the  ghost;  "  and  I  am  so  glad 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  talking  to  you.  I  have 
frequently  come  into  your  room  and  watched  you 
while  you  slept,  but  did  not  dare  to  speak  to  you 
for  fear  that  if  you  talked  with  me  Mr.  Hinckman 
would  hear  you  and  come  into  the  room  to  know 
why  you  were  talking  to  yourself." 

"  But  would  he  not  hear  you?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh  no!  "  said  the  other;  "there  are  times 
when  any  one  may  see  me,  but  no  one  hears  me 
except  the  person  to  whom  I  address  myself." 

"  But  why  did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me?"  I 
asked. 

"Because,"  replied  the  ghost,  "I  like  occa 
sionally  to  talk  to  people,  and  especially  to  some 
one  like  yourself,  whose  mind  is  so  troubled  and 


204  ^    CHOSEN  FEW 

perturbed  that  you  are  not  likely  to  be  frightened 
by  a  visit  from  one  of  us.  But  I  particularly 
wanted  to  ask  you  to  do  me  a  favor.  There  is 
every  probability,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  that  John 
Hinckman  will  live  a  long  time,  and  my  situation 
is  becoming  insupportable.  My  great  object  at 
present  is  to  get  myself  transferred,  and  I  think 
that  you  may,  perhaps,  be  of  use  to  me." 

"  Transferred!  "  I  exclaimed.  "  What  do  you 
mean  by  that?  " 

"  What  I  mean,"  said  the  other,  "  is  this  :  now 
that  I  have  started  on  my  career  I  have  got  to  be 
the  ghost  of  somebody,  and  I  want  to  be  the 
ghost  of  a  man  who  is  really  dead." 

"  I  should  think  that  would  be  easy  enough,"  I 
said.  "  Opportunities  must  continually  occur." 

"  Not  at  all!  not  at  all!  "  said  my  companion, 
quickly.  "  You  have  no  idea  what  a  rush  and 
pressure  there  is  for  situations  of  this  kind. 
Whenever  a  vacancy  occurs,  if  I  may  express 
myself  in  that  way,  there  are  crowds  of  applica 
tions  for  the  ghostship. " 

"  I  had  no  idea  that  such  a  state  of  things 
existed,"  I  said,  becoming  quite  interested  in  the 
matter.  "  There  ought  to  be  some  regular  sys 
tem,  or  order  of  precedence,  by  which  you  could 
all  take  your  turns  like  customers  in  a  barber's 
shop." 

"  Oh  dear,  that  would  never  do  at  all!  "  said 
the  other.  "  Some  of  us  would  have  to  wait  for- 


ever.  There  is  always  a  great  rush  whenever  a 
good  ghostship  offers  itself — while,  as  you  know, 
there  are  some  positions  that  no  one  would  care 
for.  And  it  was  in  consequence  of  my  being  in 
too  great  a  hurry  on  an  occasion  of  the  kind  that 
I  got  myself  into  my  present  disagreeable  predica 
ment,  and  I  have  thought  that  it  might  be  possi 
ble  that  you  would  help  me  out  of  it.  You  might 
know  of  a  case  where  an  opportunity  for  a  ghost- 
ship  was  not  generally  expected,  but  which  might 
present  itself  at  any  moment.  If  you  would  give 
me  a  short  notice  I  know  I  could  arrange  for  a 
transfer." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  exclaimed.  "Do 
you  want  me  to  commit  suicide?  or  to  undertake 
a  murder  for  your  benefit?  " 

"  Oh  no,  no,  no!  "  said  the  other,  with  a  vapory 
smile.  "  I  mean  nothing  of  that  kind.  To  be 
sure,  there  are  lovers  who  are  watched  with  con 
siderable  interest,  such  persons  having  been 
known,  in  moments  of  depression,  to  offer  very 
desirable  ghostships ;  but  I  did  not  think  of  any 
thing  of  that  kind  in  connection  with  you.  You 
were  the  only  person  I  cared  to  speak  to,  and  I 
hoped  that  you  might  give  me  some  information 
that  would  be  of  use ;  and,  in  return,  I  shall  be 
very  glad  to  help  you  in  your  love-affair." 

"You  seem  to  know  that  I  have  such  an 
affair,"  I  said. 

"Oh  yes!  "  replied   the  other,  with  a  little 


206  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

yawn.  "  I  could  not  be  here  so  much  as  I  have 
been  without  knowing  all  about  that." 

There  was  something  horrible  in  the  idea  of 
Madeline  and  myself  having  been  watched  by  a 
ghost,  even,  perhaps,  when  we  wandered  to 
gether  in  the  most  delightful  and  bosky  places. 
But  then  this  was  quite  an  exceptional  ghost,  and 
I  could  not  have  the  objections  to  him  which 
would  ordinarily  arise  in  regard  to  beings  of  his 
class. 

"  I  must  go  now,"  said  the  ghost,  rising,  "  but 
I  will  see  you  somewhere  to-morrow  night.  And 
remember  —  you  help  me  and  I'll  help  you." 

I  had  doubts  the  next  morning  as  to  the  pro 
priety  of  telling  Madeline  anything  about  this  in 
terview,  and  soon  convinced  myself  that  I  must 
keep  silent  on  the  subject.  If  she  knew  there 
was  a  ghost  about  the  house  she  would  probably 
leave  the  place  instantly.  I  did  not  mention  the 
matter,  and  so  regulated  my  demeanor  that  I  am 
quite  sure  Madeline  never  suspected  what  had 
taken  place.  For  some  time  I  had  wished  that 
Mr.  Hinckman  would  absent  himself,  for  a  day 
at  least,  from  the  premises.  In  such  case  I 
thought  I  might  more  easily  nerve  myself  up  to 
the  point  of  speaking  to  Madeline  on  the  subject 
of  our  future  collateral  existence ;  and,  now  that 
the  opportunity  for  such  speech  had  really  oc 
curred,  I  did  not  feel  ready  to  avail  myself  of  it. 
What  would  become  of  me  if  she  refused  me? 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  207 

I  had  an  idea,  however,  that  the  lady  thought 
that,  if  I  were  going  to  speak  at  all,  this  was  the 
time.  She  must  have  known  that  certain  senti 
ments  were  afloat  within  me,  and  she  was  not  un 
reasonable  in  her  wish  to  see  the  matter  settled 
one  way  or  the  other.  But  I  did  not  feel  like 
taking  a  bold  step  in  the  dark.  If  she  wished 
me  to  ask  her  to  give  herself  to  me  she  ought  to 
offer  me  some  reason  to  suppose  that  she  would 
make  the  gift.  If  I  saw  no  probability  of  such 
generosity  I  would  prefer  that  things  should 
remain  as  they  were. 

That  evening  I  was  sitting  with  Madeline  in 
the  moon-lit  porch.  It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock, 
and  ever  since  supper-time  I  had  been  working 
myself  up  to  the  point  of  making  an  avowal  of 
my  sentiments.  I  had  not  positively  determined 
to  do  this,  but  wished  gradually  to  reach  the 
proper  point,  when,  if  the  prospect  looked  bright, 
I  might  speak.  My  companion  appeared  to  under 
stand  the  situation — at  least  I  imagined  that  the 
nearer  I  came  to  a  proposal  the  more  she  seemed 
to  expect  it.  It  was  certainly  a  very  critical  and 
important  epoch  in  my  life.  If  I  spoke  I  should 
make  myself  happy  or  miserable  forever ;  and  if 
I  did  not  speak  I  had  every  reason  to  believe  that 
the  lady  would  not  give  me  another  chance  to 
do  so. 

Sitting  thus  with  Madeline,  talking  a  little,  and 


208  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

thinking  very  hard  over  these  momentous  matters, 
I  looked  up  and  saw  the  ghost  not  a  dozen  feet 
away  from  us.  He  was  sitting  on  the  railing  of 
the  porch,  one  leg  thrown  up  before  him,  the 
other  dangling  down  as  he  leaned  against  a  post. 
He  was  behind  Madeline,  but  almost  in  front  of 
me,  as  I  sat  facing  the  lady.  It  was  fortunate 
that  Madeline  was  looking  out  over  the  landscape, 
for  I  must  have  appeared  very  much  startled. 
The  ghost  had  told  me  that  he  would  see  me 
sometime  this  night,  but  I  did  not  think  he  would 
make  his  appearance  when  I  was  in  the  company 
of  Madeline.  If  she  should  see  the  spirit  of  her 
uncle  I  could  not  answer  for  the  consequences. 
I  made  no  exclamation,  but  the  ghost  evidently 
saw  that  I  was  troubled. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  not  let 
her  see  me ;  and  she  cannot  hear  me  speak  unless 
I  address  myself  to  her,  which  I  do  not  intend 
to  do." 

I  suppose  I  looked  grateful. 

"  So  you  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  that," 
the  ghost  continued;  "but  it  seems  to  me  that 
you  are  not  getting  along  very  well  with  your 
affair.  If  I  were  you  I  should  speak  out  with 
out  waiting  any  longer.  You  will  never  have  a 
better  chance.  You  are  not  likely  to  be  inter 
rupted  ;  and,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  lady 
seems  disposed  to  listen  to  you  favorably ;  that 
is,  if  she  ever  intends  to  do  so.  There  is  no 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  209 

knowing  when  John  Hinckman  will  go  away 
again;  certainly  not  this  summer.  If  I  were  in 
your  place  I  should  never  dare  to  make  love  to 
Hinckman's  niece  if  he  were  anywhere  about  the 
place.  If  he  should  catch  any  one  offering  him 
self  to  Miss  Madeline  he  would  then  be  a  terrible 
man  to  encounter." 

I  agreed  perfectly  to  all  this. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  him!  "  I  ejaculated 
aloud. 

"  Think  of  whom?  "  asked  Madeline,  turning 
quickly  toward  me. 

Here  was  an  awkward  situation.  The  long 
speech  of  the  ghost,  to  which  Madeline  paid  no 
attention,  but  which  I  heard  with  perfect  distinct 
ness,  had  made  me  forget  myself. 

It  was  necessary  to  explain  quickly.  Of  course 
it  would  not  do  to  admit  that  it  was  of  her  dear 
uncle  that  I  was  speaking;  and  so  I  mentioned 
hastily  the  first  name  I  thought  of. 

"  Mr.  Vilars,"  I  said. 

This  statement  was  entirely  correct;  for  I 
never  could  bear  to  think  of  Mr.  Vilars,  who  was 
a  gentleman  who  had  at  various  times  paid  much 
attention  to  Madeline. 

"  It  is  wrong  for  you  to  speak  in  that  way  of 
Mr.  Vilars,"  she  said.  "  He  is  a  remarkably 
well-educated  and  sensible  young  man,  and  has 
very  pleasant  manners.  He  expects  to  be  elected 
to  the  legislature  this  fall,  and  I  should  not  be 


210  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

surprised  if  he  made  his  mark.  He  will  do  well 
in  a  legislative  body,  for  whenever  Mr.  Vilars  has 
anything  to  say  he  knows  just  how  and  when  to 
say  it." 

This  was  spoken  very  quietly  and  without  any 
show  of  resentment,  which  was  all  very  natural ; 
for  if  Madeline  thought  at  all  favorably  of  me  she 
could  not  feel  displeased  that  I  should  have  dis 
agreeable  emotions  in  regard  to  a  possible  rival. 
The  concluding  words  contained  a  hint  which  I 
was  not  slow  to  understand.  I  felt  very  sure 
that  if  Mr.  Vilars  were  in  my  present  position  he 
would  speak  quickly  enough. 

"  I  know  it  is  wrong  to  have  such  ideas  about 
a  person,"  I  said,  "  but  I  cannot  help  it." 

The  lady  did  not  chide  me,  and  after  this  she 
seemed  even  in  a  softer  mood.  As  for  me,  I  felt 
considerably  annoyed,  for  I  had  not  wished  to 
admit  that  any  thought  of  Mr.  Vilars  had  ever 
occupied  my  mind. 

"  You  should  not  speak  aloud  that  way,"  said 
the  ghost,  "  or  you  may  get  yourself  into  trouble. 
I  want  to  see  everything  go  well  with  you,  be 
cause  then  you  may  be  disposed  to  help  me, 
especially  if  I  should  chance  to  be  of  any  assis 
tance  to  you,  which  I  hope  I  shall  be." 

I  longed  to  tell  him  that  there  was  no  way  in 
which  he  could  help  me  so  much  as  by  taking  his 
instant  departure.  To  make  love  to  a  young  lady 
with  a  ghost  sitting  on  the  railing  near  by,  and 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  211 

that  ghost  the  apparition  of  a  much-dreaded  uncle, 
the  very  idea  of  whom  in  such  a  position  and  at 
such  a  time  made  me  tremble,  was  a  difficult,  if 
not  an  impossible,  thing  to  do ;  but  I  forbore  to 
speak,  although  I  may  have  looked,  my  mind. 

"  I  suppose,"  continued  the  ghost,  "  that  you 
have  not  heard  anything  that  might  be  of  advan 
tage  to  me.  Of  course  I  am  very  anxious  to  hear ; 
but  if  you  have  anything  to  tell  me  I  can  wait 
until  you  are  alone.  I  will  come  to  you  to-night 
in  your  room,  or  I  will  stay  here  until  the  lady 
goes  away." 

"You  need  not  wait  here,"  I  said;  "  I  have 
nothing  at  all  to  say  to  you." 

Madeline  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  face  flushed 
and  her  eyes  ablaze. 

"  Wait  here!  "  she  cried.  "  What  do  you  sup 
pose  I  am  waiting  for?  Nothing  to  say  to  me 
indeed!  — I  should  think  so!  What  should  you 
have  to  say  to  me?  " 

"  Madeline,"  I  exclaimed,  stepping  toward  her, 
"  let  me  explain." 

But  she  had  gone. 

Here  was  the  end  of  the  world  for  me!  I 
turned  fiercely  to  the  ghost. 

"  Wretched  existence!  "  I  cried.  "  You  have 
ruined  everything.  You  have  blackened  my  whole 
life.  Had  it  not  been  for  you  —  " 

But  here  my  voice  faltered.  I  could  say  no 
more. 


212  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  You  wrong  me,"  said  the  ghost.  "  I  have 
not  injured  you.  I  have  tried  only  to  encourage 
and  assist  you,  and  it  is  your  own  folly  that  has 
done  this  mischief.  But  do  not  despair.  Such 
mistakes  as  these  can  be  explained.  Keep  up  a 
brave  heart.  Good-by." 

And  he  vanished  from  the  railing  like  a  burst 
ing  soap-bubble. 

I  went  gloomily  to  bed,  but  I  saw  no  appari 
tions  that  night  except  those  of  despair  and 
misery  which  my  wretched  thoughts  called  up. 
The  words  I  had  uttered  had  sounded  to  Made 
line  like  the  basest  insult.  Of  course  there  was 
only  one  interpretation  she  could  put  upon  them. 

As  to  explaining  my  ejaculations,  that  was  im 
possible.  I  thought  the  matter  over  and  over 
again  as  I  lay  awake  that  night,  and  I  determined 
that  I  would  never  tell  Madeline  the  facts  of  the 
case.  It  would  be  better  for  me  to  suffer  all  my 
life  than  for  her  to  know  that  the  ghost  of  her 
uncle  haunted  the  house.  Mr.  Hinckman  was 
away,  and  if  she  knew  of  his  ghost  she  could  not 
be  made  to  believe  that  he  was  not  dead.  She 
might  not  survive  the  shock!  No,  my  heart 
could  bleed,  but  I  would  never  tell  her. 

The  next  day  was  fine,  neither  too  cool  nor  too 
warm ;  the  breezes  were  gentle,  and  Nature 
smiled.  But  there  were  no  walks  or  rides  with 
Madeline.  She  seemed  to  be  much  engaged 
during  the  day,  and  I  saw  but  little  of  her. 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  213 

When  we  met  at  meals  she  was  polite,  but  very 
quiet  and  reserved.  She  had  evidently  determined 
on  a  course  of  conduct,  and  had  resolved  to  assume 
that,  although  I  had  been  very  rude  to  her,  she 
did  not  understand  the  import  of  my  words.  It 
would  be  quite  proper,  of  course,  for  her  not  to 
know  what  I  meant  by  my  expressions  of  the 
night  before. 

I  was  downcast  and  wretched  and  said  but  little, 
and  the  only  bright  streak  across  the  black  horizon 
of  my  woe  was  the  fact  that  she  did  not  appear  to 
be  happy,  although  she  affected  an  air  of  uncon 
cern.  The  moon-lit  porch  was  deserted  that 
evening,  but  wandering  about  the  house,  I  found 
Madeline  in  the  library  alone.  She  was  reading, 
but  I  went  in  and  sat  down  near  her.  I  felt  that, 
although  I  could  not  do  so  fully,  I  must  in  a 
measure  explain  my  conduct  of  the  night  before. 
She  listened  quietly  to  a  somewhat  labored 
apology  I  made  for  the  words  I  had  used. 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  what  you 
meant,"  she  said,  "  but  you  were  very  rude." 

I  earnestly  disclaimed  any  intention  of  rude 
ness,  and  assured  her,  with  a  warmth  of  speech 
that  must  have  made  some  impression  upon  her, 
that  rudeness  to  her  would  be  an  action  impossi 
ble  to  me.  I  said  a  great  deal  upon  the  subject, 
and  implored  her  to  believe  that  if  it  were  not  for 
a  certain  obstacle  I  could  speak  to  her  so  plainly 
that  she  would  understand  everything. 


2i4  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

She  was  silent  for  a  time,  and  then  she  said, 
rather  more  kindly,  I  thought,  than  she  had 
spoken  before : 

"  Is  that  obstacle  in  any  way  connected  with 
my  uncle?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  after  a  little  hesitation, 
"  it  is,  in  a  measure,  connected  with  him." 

She  made  no  answer  to  this,  and  sat  looking  at 
her  book,  but  not  reading.  From  the  expression 
of  her  face  I  thought  she  was  somewhat  softened 
toward  me.  She  knew  her  uncle  as  well  as  I 
did,  and  she  may  have  been  thinking  that,  if 
he  were  the  obstacle  that  prevented  my  speaking 
(and  there  were  many  ways  in  which  he  might  be 
that  obstacle),  my  position  would  be  such  a  hard 
one  that  it  would  excuse  some  wildness  of  speech 
and  eccentricity  of  manner.  I  saw,  too,  that  the 
warmth  of  my  partial  explanations  had  had  some 
effect  on  her,  and  I  began  to  believe  that  it  might 
be  a  good  thing  for  me  to  speak  my  mind  with 
out  delay.  No  matter  how  she  should  receive 
my  proposition,  my  relations  with  her  could  not 
be  worse  than  they  had  been  the  previous  night 
and  day,  and  there  was  something  in  her  face 
which  encouraged  me  to  hope  that  she  might 
forget  my  foolish  exclamations  of  the  evening 
before  if  I  began  to  tell  her  my  tale  of  love. 

I  drew  my  chair  a  little  nearer  to  her,  and  as 
I  did  so  the  ghost  burst  into  the  room  from  the 
doorway  behind  her.  I  say  burst,  although  no 


THE   TRANSFERRED   GHOST  215 

door  flew  open  and  he  made  no  noise.  He  was 
wildly  excited,  and  waved  his  arms  above  his 
head.  The  moment  I  saw  him  my  heart  fell 
within  me.  With  the  entrance  of  that  imper 
tinent  apparition  every  hope  fled  from  me.  I 
could  not  speak  while  he  was  in  the  room. 

I  must  have  turned  pale;  and  I  gazed  stead 
fastly  at  the  ghost,  almost  without  seeing  Made 
line,  who  sat  between  us. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  cried,  "  that  John  Hinck- 
man  is  coming  up  the  hill?  He  will  be  here  in 
fifteen  minutes ;  and  if  you  are  doing  anything  in 
the  way  of  love-making  you  had  better  hurry  it 
up.  But  this  is  not  what  I  came  to  tell  you.  I 
have  glorious  news!  At  last  I  am  transferred! 
Not  forty  minutes  ago  a  Russian  nobleman  was 
murdered  by  the  Nihilists.  Nobody  ever  thought 
of  him  in  connection  with  an  immediate  ghostship. 
My  friends  instantly  applied  for  the  situation  for 
me,  and  obtained  my  transfer.  I  am  off  before 
that  horrid  Hinckman  comes  up  the  hill.  The 
moment  I  reach  my  new  position  I  shall  put 
off  this  hated  semblance.  Good-by.  You  can't 
imagine  how  glad  I  am  to  be,  at  last,  the  real 
ghost  of  somebody." 

"  Oh!  "  I  cried,  rising  to  my  feet,  and  stretch 
ing  out  my  arms  in  utter  wretchedness,  "  I  would 
to  Heaven  you  were  mine!  " 

"  I  am  yours,"  said  Madeline,  raising  to  me 
her  tearful  eyes. 


"THE    PHILOSOPHY  OF   RELA 
TIVE    EXISTENCES" 


"THE    PHILOSOPHY  OF   RELA 
TIVE    EXISTENCES" 


X  a  certain  summer,  not  long  gone,  my 
friend  Bentley  and  I  found  ourselves 
in  a  little  hamlet  which  overlooked  a 
placid  valley,  through  which  a  river 
gently  moved,  winding  its  way  through  green 
stretches  until  it  turned  the  end  of  a  line  of  low 
hills  and  was  lost  to  view.  Beyond  this  river, 
far  away,  but  visible  from  the  door  of  the  cottage 
where  we  dwelt,  there  lay  a  city.  Through  the 
mists  which  floated  over  the  valley  we  could  see 
the  outlines  of  steeples  and  tall  roofs  ;  and  build 
ings  of  a  character  which  indicated  thrift  and 
business  stretched  themselves  down  to  the  op 
posite  edge  of  the  river.  The  more  distant  parts 
of  the  city,  evidently  a  small  one,  lost  themselves 
in  the  hazy  summer  atmosphere. 

Bentley  was  young,  fair-haired,  and  a  poet ;  I 
was  a  philosopher,  or  trying  to   be  one.     We 


220  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

were  good  friends,  and  had  come  down  into  this 
peaceful  region  to  work  together.  Although  we 
had  fled  from  the  bustle  and  distractions  of  the 
town,  the  appearance  in  this  rural  region  of  a  city, 
which,  so  far  as  we  could  observe,  exerted  no  in 
fluence  on  the  quiet  character  of  the  valley  in 
which  it  lay,  aroused  our  interest.  No  craft 
plied  up  and  down  the  river ;  there  were  no 
bridges  from  shore  to  shore ;  there  were  none  of 
those  scattered  and  half-squalid  habitations  which 
generally  are  found  on  the  outskirts  of  a  city; 
there  came  to  us  no  distant  sound  of  bells ;  and 
not  the  smallest  wreath  of  smoke  rose  from  any 
of  the  buildings. 

In  answer  to  our  inquiries  our  landlord  told 
us  that  the  city  over  the  river  had  been  built  by 
one  man,  who  was  a  visionary,  and  who  had  a 
great  deal  more  money  than  common  sense. 
"It  is  not  as  big  a  town  as  you  would  think, 
sirs,"  he  said,  "  because  the  general  mistiness  of 
things  in  this  valley  makes  them  look  larger  than 
they  are.  Those  hills,  for  instance,  when  you  get 
to  them  are  not  as  high  as  they  look  to  be  from 
here.  But  the  town  is  big  enough,  and  a  good 
deal  too  big ;  for  it  ruined  its  builder  and  owner, 
who  when  he  came  to  die  had  not  money  enough 
left  to  put  up  a  decent  tombstone  at  the  head  of 
his  grave.  He  had  a  queer  idea  that  he  would 
like  to  have  his  town  all  finished  before  anybody 
lived  in  it,  and  so  he  kept  on  working  and  spend- 


"RELATIVE  EXISTENCES"  221 

ing  money  year  after  year  and  year  after  year 
until  the  city  was  done  and  he  had  not  a  cent  left. 
During  all  the  time  that  the  place  was  building 
hundreds  of  people  came  to  him  to  buy  houses, 
or  to  hire  them,  but  he  would  not  listen  to  any 
thing  of  the  kind.  No  one  must  live  in  his  town 
until  it  was  all  done.  Even  his  workmen  were 
obliged  to  go  away  at  night  to  lodge.  It  is  a 
town,  sirs,  I  am  told,  in  which  nobody  has  slept 
for  even  a  night.  There  are  streets  there,  and 
places  of  business,  and  churches,  and  public 
halls,  and  everything  that  a  town  full  of  in 
habitants  could  need ;  but  it  is  all  empty  and 
deserted,  and  has  been  so  as  far  back  as  I  can 
remember,  and  I  came  to  this  region  when  I 
was  a  little  boy." 

"  And  is  there  no  one  to  guard  the  place?  "  we 
asked;  "no  one  to  protect  it  from  wandering 
vagrants  who  might  choose  to  take  possession  of 
the  buildings?  " 

"  There  are  not  many  vagrants  in  this  part  of 
the  country,"  he  said,  "and  if  there  were  they 
would  not  go  over  to  that  city.  It  is  haunted." 

"  By  what?  "  we  asked. 

"  Well,  sirs,  I  scarcely  can  tell  you;  queer  be 
ings  that  are  not  flesh  and  blood,  and  that  is  all  I 
know  about  it.  A  good  many  people  living  here 
abouts  have  visited  that  place  once  in  their  lives, 
but  I  know  of  no  one  who  has  gone  there  a 
second  time." 


222  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  And  travellers,"  I  said,  "  are  they  not  excited 
by  curiosity  to  explore  that  strange  uninhabited 
city?  " 

"Oh  yes,"  our  host  replied;  "almost  all 
visitors  to  the  valley  go  over  to  that  queer  city 
—  generally  in  small  parties,  for  it  is  not  a  place 
in  which  one  wishes  to  walk  about  alone.  Some 
times  they  see  things  and  sometimes  they  don't. 
But  I  never  knew  any  man  or  woman  to  show  a 
fancy  for  living  there,  although  it  is  a  very  good 
town." 

This  was  said  at  supper-time,  and,  as  it  was 
the  period  of  full  moon,  Bentley  and  I  decided 
that  we  would  visit  the  haunted  city  that  evening. 
Our  host  endeavored  to  dissuade  us,  saying  that 
no  one  ever  went  over  there  at  night ;  but  as  we 
were  not  to  be  deterred  he  told  us  where  we 
would  find  his  small  boat  tied  to  a  stake  on  the 
river-bank.  We  soon  crossed  the  river,  and 
landed  at  a  broad  but  low  stone  pier,  at  the  land 
end  of  which  a  line  of  tall  grasses  waved  in  the 
gentle  night  wind  as  if  they  were  sentinels  warn 
ing  us  from  entering  the  silent  city.  We  pushed 
through  these,  and  walked  up  a  street  fairly 
wide,  and  so  well  paved  that  we  noticed  none  of 
the  weeds  and  other  growths  which  generally  de 
note  desertion  or  little  use.  By  the  bright  light 
of  the  moon  we  could  see  that  the  architecture 
was  simple,  and  of  a  character  highly  gratifying 
to  the  eye.  All  the  buildings  were  of  stone,  and 


"RELATIVE  EXISTENCES"  223 

of  good  size.  We  were  greatly  excited  and  in 
terested,  and  proposed  to  continue  our  walks 
until  the  moon  should  set,  and  to  return  on  the 
following  morning — "  to  live  here,  perhaps," 
said  Bentley.  "  What  could  be  so  romantic  and 
yet  so  real?  What  could  conduce  better  to  the 
marriage  of  verse  and  philosophy?  "  But  as  he 
said  this  we  saw  around  the  corner  of  a  cross- 
street  some  forms  as  of  people  hurrying  away. 

"  The  spectres,"  said  my  companion,  laying  his 
hand  on  my  arm. 

"Vagrants,  more  likely,"  I  answered,  "who 
have  taken  advantage  of  the  superstition  of  the 
region  to  appropriate  this  comfort  and  beauty  to 
themselves."  § 

"  If  that  be  so',"  said  Bentley,  "  we  must  have 
a  care  for  our  lipes." 

We  proceeded  cautiously,  and  soon  saw  other 
forms  fleeing  before  us  and  disappearing,  as  we 
supposed,  around  corners  and  into  houses.  And 
now  suddenly  rinding. ourselves  upon  the  edge  of 
a  wide,  open  public  square,  we  saw  in  the  dim 
light  —  for  a  tall  steeple  obscured  the  moon — the 
forms  of  vehicles,  horses,  and  men  moving  here 
and  there.  But  before,  in  our  astonishment,  we 
could  say  a  word  one  to  the  other,  the  moon 
moved  past  the  steeple,  and  in  its  bright  light  we 
could  see  none  of  the  signs  of  life  and  traffic 
which  had  just  astonished  us. 

Timidly,  with  hearts  beating  fast,  but  with  not 


224  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

one  thought  of  turning  back,  nor  any  fear  of 
vagrants  —  for  we  were  now  sure  that  what  we 
had  seen  was  not  flesh  and  blood,  and  therefore 
harmless  —  we  crossed  the  open  space  and  entered 
a  street  down  which  the  moon  shone  clearly. 
Here  and  there  we  saw  dim  figures,  which 
quickly  disappeared;  but,  approaching  a  low 
stone  balcony  in  front  of  one  of  the  houses,  we 
were  surprised  to  see,  sitting  thereon  and  leaning 
over  a  book  which  lay  open  upon  the  top  of  the 
carved  parapet,  the  figure  of  a  woman  who  did 
not  appear  to  notice  us. 

"That  is  a  real  person,"  whispered  Bentley, 
"  and  she  does  not  see  us." 

"  No,"  I  replied;  "  it  is  like  the  others.  Let 
us  go  near  it." 

We  drew  near  to  the  balcony  £iid  stood  before 
it.  At  this  the  figure  raised  its  head  and  looked 
at  us.  It  was  beautiful,  it  was  young;  but  its 
substance  seemed  to  be  of  an  ethereal  quality 
which  we  had  never  seen  or  known  of.  With 
its  full,  soft  eyes  fixed  upon  us,  it  spoke. 

"  Why  are  you  here?  "  it  asked.  "  I  have  said 
to  myself  that  the  next  time  I  saw  any  of  you  I 
would  ask  you  why  you  come  to  trouble  us. 
Cannot  you  live  content  in  your  own  realms  and 
spheres,  knowing,  as  you  must  know,  how  timid 
we  are,  and  how  you  frighten  us  and  make  us  un 
happy?  In  all  this  city  there  is,  I  believe,  not 
one  of  us  except  myself  who  does  not  flee  and 


"RELATIVE  EXISTENCES"  225 

hide  from  you  whenever  you  cruelly  come  here. 
Even  I  would  do  that,  had  not  I  declared  to  my 
self  that  I  would  see  you  and  speak  to  you, 
and  endeavor  to  prevail  upon  you  to  leave  us  in 
peace." 

The  clear,  frank  tones  of  the  speaker  gave 
me  courage.  "  We  are  two  men,"  I  answered, 
"  strangers  in  this  region,  and  living  for  the 
time  in  the  beautiful  country  on  the  other  side  of 
the  river.  Having  heard  of  this  quiet  city,  we 
have  come  to  see  it  for  ourselves.  We  had  sup 
posed  it  to  be  uninhabited,  but  now  that  we  find 
that  this  is  not  the  case,  we  would  assure  you 
from  our  hearts  that  we  do  not  wish  to  disturber 
annoy  any  one  who  lives  here.  We  simply  came 
as  honest  travellers  to  view  the  city." 

The  figure  now  seated  herself  again,  and  as  her 
countenance  was  nearer  to  us,  we  could  see  that  it 
was  filled  with  pensive  thought.  For  a  moment 
she  looked  at  us  without  speaking.  "  Men !  "  she 
said.  "  And  so  I  have  been  right.  For  a  long 
time  I  have  believed  that  the  beings  who  some 
times  come  here,  filling  us  with  dread  and  awe, 
are  men." 

"And  you,"  I  exclaimed — "who  are  you, 
and  who  are  these  forms  that  we  have  seen, 
these  strange  inhabitants  of  this  city?  " 

She  gently  smiled  as  she  answered,  "  We  are 
the  ghosts  of  the  future.  We  are  the  people  who 
are  to  live  in  this  city  generations  hence.  But  all 


226  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

of  us  do  not  know  that,  principally  because  we  do 
not  think  about  it  and  study  about  it  enough  to 
know  it.  And  it  is  generally  believed  that  the 
men  and  women  who  sometimes  come  here  are 
ghosts  who  haunt  the  place." 

"  And  that  is  why  you  are  terrified  and  flee 
from  us?"  I  exclaimed.  "You  think  we  are 
ghosts  from  another  world?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied ;  "  that  is  what  is  thought, 
and  what  I  used  to  think." 

"And  you,"  I  asked,  "are  spirits  of  human 
beings  yet  to  be?  " 

"Yes,"  she  answered;  "but  not  for  a  long 
time.  Generations  of  men  —  I  know  not  how 
many — must  pass  away  before  we  are  men  and 
women." 

"  Heavens!  "  exclaimed  Bentley,  clasping  his 
hands  and  raising  his  eyes  to  the  sky,  "  I  shall 
be  a  spirit  before  you  are  a  woman." 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said  again,  with  a  sweet  smile 
upon  her  face,  "  you  may  live  to  be  very,  very 
old." 

But  Bentley  shook  his  head.  This  did  not 
console  him.  For  some  minutes  I  stood  in  con 
templation,  gazing  upon  the  stone  pavement  be 
neath  my  feet.  "  And  this,"  I  ejaculated,  "  is  a 
city  inhabited  by  the  ghosts  of  the  future,  who 
believe  men  and  women  to  be  phantoms  and 
spectres?  " 

She  bowed  her  head. 


"RELATIVE  EXISTENCES"  227 

"  But  how  is  it,"  I  asked,  "  that  you  discovered 
that  you  are  spirits  and  we  mortal  men?  " 

"There  are  so  few  of  us  who  think  of  such 
things,"  she  answered,  "  so  few  who  study, 
ponder,  and  reflect.  I  am  fond  of  study,  and  I 
love  philosophy;  and  from  the  reading  of  many 
books  I  have  learned  much.  From  the  book 
which  I  have  here  I  have  learned  most ;  and 
from  its  teachings  I  have  gradually  come  to  the 
belief,  which  you  tell  me  is  the  true  one,  that  we 
are  spirits  and  you  men." 

"  And  what  book  is  that?  "  I  asked. 

"  It  is  '  The  Philosophy  of  Relative  Existences,' 
by  Rupert  Vance." 

"  Ye  gods!  "  I  exclaimed,  springing  upon  the 
balcony,  ' '  that  is  my  book,  and  I  am  Rupert 
Vance."  I  stepped  toward  the  volume  to  seize 
it,  but  she  raised  her  hand. 

"  You  cannot  touch  it,"  she  said.  "It  is  the 
ghost  of  a  book.  And  did  you  write  it?  " 

"  Write  it  ?  No,"  I  said;  "  I  am  writing  it. 
It  is  not  yet  finished." 

"  But  here  it  is,"  she  said,  turning  over  the 
last  pages.  "  As  a  spirit  book  it  is  finished.  It 
is  very  successful;  it  is  held  in  high  estima 
tion  by  intelligent  thinkers ;  it  is  a  standard 
work." 

I  stood  trembling  with  emotion.  "  High  esti 
mation!  "  I  said.  "  A  standard  work!  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  replied,  with  animation ;  "  and 


228  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

it  well  deserves  its  great  success,  especially  in  its 
conclusion.  I  have  read  it  twice." 

"  But  let  me  see  these  concluding  pages,"  I 
exclaimed.  "  Let  me  look  upon  what  I  am  to 
write." 

She  smiled,  and  shook  her  head,  and  closed 
the  book.  "  I  would  like  to  do  that,"  she  said, 
"  but  if  you  are  really  a  man  you  must  not  know 
what  you  are  going  to  do." 

"  Oh,  tell  me,  tell  me,"  cried  Bentley  from 
below,  "  do  you  know  a  book  called  '  Stellar 
Studies,'  by  Arthur  Bentley?  It  is  a  book  of 
poems." 

The  figure  gazed  at  him.  "No,"  it  said, 
presently,  "  I  never  heard  of  it." 

I  stood  trembling.  Had  the  youthful  figure 
before  me  been  flesh  and  blood,  had  the  book 
been  a  real  one,  I  would  have  torn  it  from  her. 

"  O  wise  and  lovely  being!  "  I  exclaimed,  fall 
ing  on  my  knees  before  her,  "  be  also  benign  and 
generous.  Let  me  but  see  the  last  page  of  my 
book.  If  I  have  been  of  benefit  to  your  world ; 
more  than  all,  if  I  have  been  of  benefit  to  you,  let 
me  see,  I  implore  you  —  let  me  see  how  it  is  that 
I  have  done  it." 

She  rose  with  the  book  in  her  hand.  "  You 
have  only  to  wait  until  you  have  done  it,"  she 
said,  "  and  then  you  will  know  all  that  you  could 
see  here."  I  started  to  my  feet  and  stood  alone 
upon  the  balcony. 


"RELATIVE  EXISTENCES"  229 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Bentley,  as  we  walked  to 
ward  the  pier  where  we  had  left  our  boat,  ' '  that 
we  talked  only  to  that  ghost  girl,  and  that  the 
other  spirits  were  all  afraid  of  us.  Persons 
whose  souls  are  choked  up  with  philosophy  are 
not  apt  to  care  much  for  poetry ;  and  even  if  my 
book  is  to  be  widely  known,  it  is  easy  to  see  that 
she  may  not  have  heard  of  it." 

I  walked  triumphant.  The  moon,  almost  touch 
ing  the  horizon,  beamed  like  red  gold.  "  My  dear 
friend,"  said  I,  "  I  have  always  told  you  that  you 
should  put  more  philosophy  into  your  poetry. 
That  would  make  it  live." 

"  And  I  have  always  told  you,"  said  he,  "  that 
you  should  not  put  so  much  poetry  into  your 
philosophy.  It  misleads  people." 

"  It  didn't  mislead  that  ghost  girl,"  said  I. 

"  How  do  you  know?  "  said  Bentley.  "  Per 
haps  she  is  wrong,  and  the  other  inhabitants  of 
the  city  are  right,  and  we  may  be  the  ghosts  after 
all.  Such  things,  you  know,  are  only  relative. 
Anyway,"  he  continued,  after  a  little  pause,  "  I 
wish  I  knew  that  those  ghosts  were  now  reading 
the  poem  which  I  am  going  to  begin  to-morrow. " 


A   PIECE   OF   RED    CALICO 


A   PIECE   OF   RED    CALICO 


WAS  going  into  town  one  morning 
from  my  suburban  residence,  when  my 
wife  handed  me  a  little  piece  of  red 
calico,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  have 
time,  during  the  day,  to  buy  her  two  yards  and  a 
half  of  calico  like  that.  I  assured  her  that  it 
would  be  no  trouble  at  all ;  and  putting  the  sam 
ple  in  my  pocket,  I  took  the  train  for  the  city. 

At  lunch-time  I  stopped  in  at  a  large  dry-goods 
store  to  attend  to  my  wife's  commission.  I  saw 
a  well-dressed  man  walking  the  floor  between  the 
counters,  where  long  lines  of  girls  were  waiting 
on  much  longer  lines  of  customers,  and  asked  him 
where  I  could  see  some  red  calico. 

"  This  way,  sir."  And  he  led  me  up  the  store. 
"  Miss  Stone,"  said  he  to  a  young  lady,  "  show 
this  gentleman  some  red  calico." 

"What  shade  do  you  want?"  asked  Miss 
Stone. 

I  showed  her  the  little  piece  of  calico  that  my 
wife  had  given  me.  She  looked  at  it  and  handed 


234  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

it  back  to  me.  Then  she  took  down  a  great  roll 
of  red  calico  and  spread  it  out  on  the  counter. 

"  Why,  that  isn't  the  shade!  "  said  I. 

"  No,  not  exactly,"  said  she ;  "  but  it  is  prettier 
than  your  sample." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  I ;  "  but,  you  see,  I  want 
to  match  this  piece.  There  is  something  already 
made  of  this  kind  of  calico  which  needs  to  be  en 
larged  or  mended  or  something.  I  want  some 
calico  of  the  same  shade." 

The  girl  made  no  answer,  but  took  down  another 
roll. 

"  That's  the  shade,"  said  she. 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  but  it's  striped." 

"  Stripes  are  more  worn  than  anything  else  in 
calicoes,"  said  she. 

"  Yes,  but  this  isn't  to  be  worn.  It's  for  furni 
ture,  I  -think.  At  any  rate,  I  want  perfectly  plain 
stuff,  to  match  something  already  in  use." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  you  can  find  it  perfectly 
plain  unless  you  get  Turkey  red." 

"  WThat  is  Turkey  red?  "  I  asked. 

"  Turkey  red  is  perfectly  plain  in  calicoes,"  she 
answered. 

"  Well,  let  me  see  some." 

"  We  haven't  any  Turkey-red  calico  left,"  she 
said,  ' '  but  we  have  some  very  nice  plain  calicoes 
in  other  colors." 

"  I  don't  want  any  other  color.  I  want  stuff 
to  match  this." 


A    PIECE   OF  RED   CALICO  235 

"  It's  hard  to  match  cheap  calico  like  that,"  she 
said.  And  so  I  left  her. 

I  next  went  into  a  store  a  few  doors  farther 
up  the  street.  When  I  entered  I  approached  the 
"  floor-walker,"  and  handing  him  my  sample, 
said: 

"  Have  you  any  calico  like  this?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Third  counter  to  the 
right." 

I  went  to  the  third  counter  to  the  right,  and 
showed  my  sample  to  the  salesman  in  attendance 
there.  He  looked  at  it  on  both  sides.  Then  he 
said : 

"  We  haven't  any  of  this." 

"  I  was  told  you  had,"  said  I. 

"  We  had  it,  but  we're  out  of  it  now.  You'll 
get  that  goods  at  an  upholsterer's." 

I  went  across  the  street  to  an  upholsterer's. 

"  Have  you  any  stuff  like  this?  "  I  asked. 

"  No,"  said  the  salesman,  "  we  haven't.  Is  it 
for  furniture?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

"  Then  Turkey  red  is  what  you  want." 

"  Is  Turkey  red  just  like  this?  "  I  asked. 

"  No,"  said  he;  "  but  it's  much  better." 

"  That  makes  no  difference  to  me,"  I  replied. 
"  I  want  something  just  like  this." 

"  But  they  don't  use  that  for  furniture,"  he 
said. 

"  I  should  think  people  could  use  anything 


236  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

they  wanted  for  furniture,"  I  remarked,  some 
what  sharply. 

"They  can,  but  they  don't,"  he  said,  quite 
calmly.  "  They  don't  use  red  like  that.  They 
use  Turkey  red." 

I  said  no  more,  but  left.  The  next  place  I 
visited  was  a  very  large  dry-goods  store.  Of  the 
first  salesman  I  saw  I  inquired  if  they  kept  red 
calico  like  my  sample. 

"You'll  find  that  on  the  second  story,"  said 
he. 

I  went  upstairs.     There  I  asked  a  man : 

"  Where  will  I  find  red  calico?  " 

"  In  the  far  room  to  the  left.  Over  there." 
And  he  pointed  to  a  distant  corner. 

I  walked  through  the  crowds  of  purchasers  and 
salespeople,  and  around  the  counters  and  tables 
filled  with  goods,  to  the  far  room  to  the  left. 
When  I  got  there  I  asked  for  red  calico. 

"  The  second  counter  down  this  side,"  said  the 
man. 

I  went  there  and  produced  my  sample.  "  Cal 
icoes  downstairs,"  said  the  man. 

"  They  told  me  they  were  up  here,"  I  said. 

"  Not  these  plain  goods.  You'll  find  'em 
downstairs  at  the  back  of  the  store,  over  on  that 
side." 

I  went  downstairs  to  the  back  of  the  store. 

"Where  will  I  find  red  calico  like  this?"  I 
asked. 


'A    PIECE   OF  RED   CALICO  237 

"Next  counter  but  one,"  said  the  man  ad 
dressed,  walking  with  me  in  the  direction  pointed 
out. 

"  Dunn,  show  red  calicoes." 

Mr.  Dunn  took  my  sample  and  looked  at  it. 

"  We  haven't  this  shade  in  that  quality  of 
goods,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  have  you  it  in  any  quality  of  goods?  " 
I  asked. 

"  Yes  ;  we've  got  it  finer."  And  he  took  down 
a  piece  of  calico,  and  unrolled  a  yard  or  two  of  it 
on  the  counter. 

"  That's  not  this  shade,"  I  said. 

"  No,"  said  he.  "  The  goods  is  finer  and  the 
color's  better." 

"  I  want  it  to  match  this,"  I  said. 

"  I  thought  you  weren't  particular  about  the 
match,"  said  the  salesman.  "You  said  you 
didn't  care  for  the  quality  of  the  goods,  and  you 
know  you  can't  match  goods  without  you  take 
into  consideration  quality  and  color  both.  If  you 
want  that  quality  of  goods  in  red,  you  ought  to 
get  Turkey  red." 

I  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  answer  this 
remark,  but  said : 

"  Then  you've  got  nothing  to  match  this?  " 

"  No,  sir.  But  perhaps  they  may  have  it  in  the 
upholstery  department,  in  the  sixth  story." 

So  I  got  in  the  elevator  and  went  up  to  the  top 
of  the  house. 


238  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

"  Have  you  any  red  stuff  like  this?  "  I  said  to 
a  young  man. 

"Red  stuff?  Upholstery  department — other 
end  of  this  floor." 

I  went  to  the  other  end  of  the  floor. 

"  I  want  some  red  calico,"  I  said  to  a  man. 

"  Furniture  goods?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"  Fourth  counter  to  the  left." 

I  went  to  the  fourth  counter  to  the  left,  and 
showed  my  sample  to  a  salesman.  He  looked  at 
it,  and  said : 

"  You'll  get  this  down  on  the  first  floor  —  calico 
department." 

I  turned  on  my  heel,  descended  in  the  elevator, 
and  went  out  on  the  street.  I  was  thoroughly 
sick  of  red  calico.  But  I  determined  to  make 
one  more  trial.  My  wife  had  bought  her  red 
calico  not  long  before,  and  there  must  be  some 
to  be  had  somewhere.  I  ought  to  have  asked  her 
where  she  obtained  it,  but  I  thought  a  simple  little 
thing  like  that  could  be  bought  anywhere. 

I  went  into  another  large  dry-goods  store.  As 
I  entered  the  door  a  sudden  tremor  seized  me.  I 
could  not  bear  to  take  out  that  piece  of  red  calico. 
If  I  had  had  any  other  kind  of  a  rag  about  me — 
a  pen-wiper  or  anything  of  the  sort  —  I  think  I 
would  have  asked  them  if  they  could  match  that. 

But  I  stepped  up  to  a  young  woman  and  pre 
sented  my  sample,  with  the  usual  question. 


A    PIECE   OF  RED   CALICO  239 

"  Back  room,  counter  on  the  left,"  she  said. 

I  went  there. 

"  Have  you  any  red  calico  like  this?"  I  asked 
of  the  saleswoman  behind  the  counter. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  said,  "  but  we  have  it  in  Tur 
key  red." 

Turkey  red  again!      I  surrendered. 

"  All  right,"  I  said,  "  give  me  Turkey  red." 

"  How  much,  sir?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know — say  five  yards." 

She  looked  at  me  rather  strangely,  but  mea 
sured  off  five  yards  of  Turkey-red  calico.  Then 
she  rapped  on  the  counter  and  called  out  "  Cash!  " 
A  little  girl,  with  yellow  hair  in  two  long  plaits, 
came  slowly  up.  The  lady  wrote  the  number  of 
yards,  the  name  of  the  goods,  her  own  number, 
the  price,  the  amount  of  the  bank-note  I  handed 
her,  and  some  other  matters,  probably  the  color 
of  my  eyes  and  the  direction  and  velocity  of  the 
wind,  on  a  slip  of  paper.  She  then  copied  all 
this  into  a  little  book  which  she  kept  by  her. 
Then  she  handed  the  slip  of  paper,  the  money, 
and  the  Turkey  red  to  the  yellow-haired  girl. 
This  young  person  copied  the  slip  into  a  little 
book  she  carried,  and  then  she  went  away  with 
the  calico,  the  paper  slip,  and  the  money. 

After  a  very  long  time  —  during  which  the  little 
girl  probably  took  the  goods,  the  money,  and  the 
slip  to  some  central  desk,  where  the  note  was  re 
ceived,  its  amount  and  number  entered  in  a  book, 


24o  A    CHOSEN  FEW 

change  given  to  the  girl,  a  copy  of  the  slip  made 
and  entered,  girl's  entry  examined  and  approved, 
goods  wrapped  up,  girl  registered,  plaits  counted 
and  entered  on  a  slip  of  paper  and  copied  by  the 
girl  in  her  book,  girl  taken  to  a  hydrant  and 
washed,  number  of  towel  entered  on  a  paper  slip 
and  copied  by  the  girl  in  her  book,  value  of  my 
note  and  amount  of  change  branded  somewhere 
on  the  child,  and  said  process  noted  on  a  slip  of 
paper  and  copied  in  her  book — the  girl  came  to 
me,  bringing  my  change  and  the  package  of 
Turkey-red  calico. 

I  had  time  for  but  very  little  work  at  the  office 
that  afternoon,  and  when  I  reached  home  I  handed 
the  package  of  calico  to  my  wife.  She  unrolled 
it  and  exclaimed : 

"Why,  this  don't  match  the  piece  I  gave  you!  " 

"Match  it!"  I  cried.  "Oh  no!  it  don't 
match  it.  You  didn't  want  that  matched.  You 
were  mistaken.  What  you  wanted  was  Turkey 
red  —  third  counter  to  the  left.  I  mean,  Turkey 
red  is  what  they  use." 

My  wife  looked  at  me  in  amazement,  and  then 
I  detailed  to  her  my  troubles. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  this  Turkey  red  is  a  great 
deal  prettier  than  what  I  had,  and  you've  got  so 
much  of  it  that  I  needn't  use  the  other  at  all.  I 
wish  I  had  thought  of  Turkey  red  before." 

"  I  wish  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  you 
had,"  said  I. 


A     000  551  506     9 


